The Website
by ChaosRaynes
Summary: Sherlock gets sent a mysterious website and sees a woman who could either be his all or his ruin...which is it going to be?
1. Chapter 1

I can still feel his lips aganst my skin. _Sherlock._ His hands skimming down to my waist. His breath blowing across the crook of my neck, where it meets my shoulder. The murmur of his voice in my ear. _Holmes._ I blink away the memory. Most of the time it feels like a daydream, like it never really happened...did it?

His phone pinged. The blasted thing had been quiet for days, he thought as he picked it up in annoyance. An e-mail...weird. Usually it was either a text or a phone call. Thinking it was from John or worse a boring, ordinary client. He set his phone down and walked away, set on ignoring it...when it began to ping away, drawing his attention back to the wretched piece of technology. It blinked, letting him know it would not be patience nor ignored. 15 e-mails now...fascinating. He swiped the screen, opening the e-mail app. All them where from the same e-mail address, every one of them with the same website and nothing more. No header, no signature, nothing. Just a website. He tried opening the website from his phone, but it was not mobile friendly...go figure. over to his laptop then, plugging in the website address from the e-mail. opening instantly to a screen that looked like a film, slightly low quality mind you, but a film nonetheless. He could hear music playing and could see a very generic room. Just as he was about to shut the entire thing down, he heard the most angelic voice come through his laptop speakers. He paused, finger hovering over the mouse pad. He had heard this song before, he just couldn't figure out where he had heard it before.

 _"I don't know if you can see_

 _the changes that have come over me_

 _In these last few days I've been afraid_

 _That I might drift away_

 _I've been telling old stories, singing songs_

 _That make me think about where I've come from_

 _That's the reason why I seem_

 _So far away today_

 _Let me tell you that I love you_

 _That I think about you all the time_

 _Caledonia, you're calling me, now I'm going home_

 _But if I should become a stranger_

 _Know that it would make me more than sad_

 _Caledonia's been everything I've ever had"_

He couldn't close the site if he wanted to. That voice captured him like a rabbit in a snare. His mind palace pulled a name for the song the beautiful voice was singing, it was " _ **Caledonia**_ " by _**Celtic Woman**_. And she sang it beautifully, she was as good as the group. He had to see the angel that was producing such a wonderous sound. There, right there, was a button to change the camera to other rooms and angles. He flipped through them quickly counting 4 bedrooms and 3, well 2, living areas. And there, in low quality, was the angel. With her back to the camera, obviously unaware of being watched, she was normal. Well except for her voice. Sherlock noticed another button that changed the quality of the video. And change it he shall, he thought. The unknown woman's phone rang, as she went to answer, John Watson blew into 221 B Baker Street. Sherlock shut the lid to the laptop faster than he normally would, drawing John's attention. "What's going on Sherlock, what are you up to?" John asked. "Nothing, nothing at all John" Sherlock quickly answered. John looked at Sherlock and saw that he was lying, but the question was why?

"Any cases?" Sherlock asked, just to draw John's attention away from him. "No, actually." John answered. "I sense a but in that sentence." Sherlock stated. John wavered while heading for his chair. "Well, I recieved a strange e-mail," John started, "actually 15 of them to be exact, but I couldn't open the website in the e-mail from my phone." Sherlock jerked up in his chair causing John to look at him strange. "What's going on with you Sherlock?" John asked. Sherlock moved to his chair and steepled his hands together as he usually did while in deep thought. "Sherlock?" John asked. Sherlock sighed and thought he might as well tell him. "Well, John, I too have recieved 15 e-mails with a website that couldn't be opened from a mobile phone" Sherlock stated in a flat voice. "Odd, let me try my laptop." John replied. John pulled his laptop from under the table next to his chair and proceeded to plug in the website from the e-mail. John's laptop made a loud rejection noise, so he tried again. Same rejection noise. "Well that is strange indeed." Sherlock said, as he walked over to his laptop. Sherlock plugged the website back into his browser and was instantly reconnected to the video of the woman with the amazing voice. John came over and watched over Sherlock's shoulder.

"Who do you suppose she is?" asked John. Sherlock sat mesmerized and answered vaguely, "Being that we have no cases at the present, I would like to find out." John considered Sherlock's answer, watching him stare at the screen, when John finally saw it...Sherlock's eyes dilated. It couldn't be, this mystery woman couldn't be affecting Sherlock like this. A man that felt that love and feelings of such were a dangerous distraction, was getting very interested in a woman. "What do you notice, John?" Sherlock asked, already knowing what he was seeing. John stepped behind Sherlock, looking at the screen in front of them. "Well, whatever she is typing on the laptop muxst be very important, seeing how her finger are flying over the keys." John stated. "No, no, no John, what is the most obvious thing you see?" asked Sherlock again. John just stared at the screen. Sherlock sighed annoyingly, "Look at her clothes, John, if I am not mistaken those are her form of pajamas." John glanced at Sherlock," Yeah, well, you are in yours as well." Sherlock pointed at the screen, " The window to her left is dark, and if you look at the mobile phone on her bed next to her, the time on it is 1:18 a.m." John glanced at the clock on the wall, "But it is now 6:19 in the morning." Sherlock grinned, "Which means she is not in London." Sherlock jumped up from his chair, grabbing his phone and began typing. _What places are five hours behind London?_ , he Googled. John sat down and looked over the scene on the screen, trying to see anything else that would lend some clues as to who the myserty woman was. With the angle of the camera John could also see the tv screen fairly clearly, it was playing country music videos. "Sherlock, have you heard her speak?" John asked. "Hmmm, what?" Sherlock said distracted. John repeated himself. "No, I haven't" Sherlock said frowning. John looked up at Sherlock in shock, "You have been watching this site for how long?" Sherlock mentally calculated quickly, " About 10 hours, give or take distractions." John was speechless for a few minutes, "And in all that time you have heard her speak?" Sherlock looked at his phone and saw his answer, kinda. "Well there are exactly 24 major cities that are five hours behind London, I feel sure we can rule out Haiti, Panama, Peru, Jamaica, Cuba and Colombia." John's brow creased, " How so?" Sherlock remembered that John was not present when the woman had been singing. "Because when she sings there is no telltale accent, which then leaves Canada and America." John shook his head, "Great, two large countries, or at least a portion of them."

While they were distracted, trying to deduce the woman, neither one noticed that music had softly started playing. That was until the angelic voice started coming through the speakers, effectively stopping both men in their tracks. "Listen, John." Sherlock commanded happily, as the sound of a single violin played through Sherlock's speakers.

 _"When I am down and oh, my soul so weary_

 _when troubles come and my heart burdened be_

 _then I am stll and waiting in the silence,_

 _Until you come and sit awhile with me._

 _You raise me up, so I can stand on mountians_

 _You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas_

 _I am strong, when I am on your shoulders_

 _You raise me up to more than I can be."_

John was standing behind Sherlock with his jaw dropped in utter astonishment. When the song was finished, Sherlock turned to John. "See, not a single accent that can be detected." John tried twice to say something, clearing his throat, "My God Sherlock, she is amazing, what song as that?" Sherlock had already started to search the internet for the song, " _ **You Raise Me Up**_ by _**Celtic Woman**_ , she seems to be very partial to the group" he stated. John was about to respond when more music poured from the speakers, making John pull up a chair. Thinking they were going to hear her sing again, they leaned forward. Suddenly her phone rang. John and Sherlock looked at each other in anticipation. The woman looked at the caller ID and smiled, Sherlock instantly disliked that. "Hello, hun," she said, " Is everything okay?" Sherlock grabbed paper, pen and his phone. He set his phone to recording her voice, talking normally and handed it to John, motioning him to hold it close to the laptop. Sherlock began to jot certain words down while the woman chatted on the phone. She hung up and the music came back on, quieter than before, while she went back to typing on her laptop. After an hour of typing, the woman saved what she was working on, shut down the laptop and headed to sleep. Sherlock had hoped to hear her speak some more, or even sing.

"Well, Sherlock, anything?" John asked. Sherlock played back the woman's phone conversation. Listening carefully, he began to draw some conclusions. When the playback was finished, he set the phone down and looked over at John. "She is definitely an American, a famed Southern to be exact. From the use of "Hun" and owing to the fact that the hat on the key rack is half camouflage, the one license plate on the wall is fake diamond plate like a toolbox and both the hat and keychain on the key rack have Tarheels printed on them. I deduce she is from a region in North Carolina" Just as he finished talking his phone pinged back the answer to his question he had typed in. "The Tarheels is the name of the University of North Carolina teams, located in Chapel Hill, North Carolina." Sherlock finished, showing John the logo that matched the hat and plate on the wall. "But she may not actually live in that area, Sherlock. Maybe we could ask Mycroft to look into this a bit?" John said. "Absolutely not John, you know how he is, he would snatch her up, scare the devil out of her and try to warn her off of me just like he does with almost everyone else he thinks I have an interest with" Sherlock said pointedly staring at John. John nodded in agreement, thinking back about how many times Mycroft had done just the same to him.

While Sherlock and John had been watching the live feed and deducing the woman, Mycroft had also recieved the e-mail. He also logged in, watching the same feed as John and Sherlock, but there was an extra camera angle on the page. One that showed Sherlock and John doing all their detective work on the woman. Mycroft minimized the website, while bringing up his normal feed of Sherlock's flat at 221 B Baker Street. He noticed that it was a slightly different angle than his own camera. "Hmmm, I wonder who has managed to get into brother of mine's apartment and how did little brother not notice?" he wondered. He made some calls and got nowhere with a trace on the website and the camera feeds. Though he was able to find out who the mystery woman was. Then he heard the worst possible thing that day, Sherlock happily telling Watson to listen and smiling absently. "Oh dear, brother mine..." Mycroft said, shaking his head, "It seems we need to have a meeting." Especially since there was an extra camera in Sherlock's flat that should not be there. He would need more information before using his normal cloak and dagger tricks.

It was 2 in the afternoon when Sherlock's phone went off. Snatching it up, hoping it was something on the woman, only to find out it was his irritating brother. Tossing his phone aside, ignoring it, he grabbed at his tea cup that Mrs. Hudson has set down moments earlier, sloshing it over the rim spilling hot tea on his hand. "Damn it" Sherlock growled. "Are you alright, dear?" asked Mrs. Hudson. "Yes, yes, Mrs. Hudson, just a text from my annoying brother." Sherlock responded, "Surely by now, he has found out what I have been up to." Another ping, but this time it was not his phone. As Sherlock turn to see John entering the room, "Ignore it, it's only Mycroft." John looked at his phone, he turned and showed the screen to Sherlock. _"_ **Need to meet. Car is out front. Don't make me order you Sherlock. Mycroft Holmes** _"_ Angry, Sherlock threw off his dressing coat onto the nearby chair, grabbed his suit jacket, outer jacket and John. "Come, before Mycroft has a heart attack." Sherlock grumbled. Shaking his head, John turned to follow Sherlock while saying hello and goodbye to Mrs. Hudson. Just as they stepped outside of their flat, a black BMW pulled up in front of them. Use to Mycroft's usual antics, they got into the car.

They exit the car at The Diogenes Club, finding Mycroft in The Stranger's Room. "Well, Mycroft, to what do I owe the pleasure" Sherlock said snidely. "Let's not do this now, Sherlock, this is important. There has been a development, that you are currently unaware of." Mycroft said quickly. Mycroft produced two laptops, one being Sherlock's. "How did you get that..." John trailed off, trying to figure out how Mycroft could have possibly gotten Sherlock's laptop out of their flat. "You would be surprised, Dr. Watson, what my brother misses when it is deemed not important." Mycroft said. Sherlock snorted rudely. "This was recorded while your mystery woman slept, well not really slept, but you will see." Mycroft said, "I have not cut anything out, I promise." Mycroft hit play on Sherlock's laptop. The woman laid down, falling almost instanty asleep, tired from what looked to be writing a story on her laptop. About 45 minutes after laying down, there was a knock coming from the front of her flat. Groaning as she got up, making her way too the front door, she peeked through the peephole. Instantly smiling, she answered, "Hey Hun, what are you doing here so late?" She reached out to grab a distinctly male hand, at least a inch or so bigger than hers. "My flight came in slightly early and I couldn't wait to see you, I drove straight through from Norfolk." the male voice rumbled low. The woman pulled the man into view of the camera, he kept his back to the camera. She threw her arms around the man and kissed him, "I missed you. Where did your travels take you this time?" she asked. "London, my darling." he said, obviously smiling from the sound of his voice. Sherlock almost instantly despised this unknown man, who seemed to be so at easy with the woman.

Shocked himself, Sherlock jerked slightly in his chair. John didn't notice but Mycroft did. Well, Mycroft thought, that is interesting. They returned their attention to the screen when the man spoke next, that almost made all of their blood run cold. "Miss me?" he said, in a distinctly snide way. "No, no, no, no" Sherlock stumbled. "Oh yes, brother mine, this is the main reason why we had to meet here and not at your flat. Well and you have a camera in your flat that shouldn't be there." Mycroft continued. John snapped his head around towards Mycroft, "A camera?" Mycroft spun his laptop round, clicking to bring up the same website. There was an extra camera angle that didn't belong, enlarged the angle, it was indeed 221 B Baker Street. Mycroft handed Sherlock a file folder, "This is the information we have collected on your mystery woman so far." Sherlock tried to focus to read the information, he would finally have a name, thanks to his brother. What a bitter pill that was to swallow, Sherlock thought. On Sherlock's screen, the woman and what looked to be Moriarty from the back continued to talk, while Sherlock quickly scanned the information on her. Sherlock spoke only for John's benefit. "Her name is Leigha Johnson. She is single and she is in danger if that is Jim Moriarty." he said in a subdued voice. The voices on Sherlock's screen almost abruptly ended, exceptt for Gabrielle's voice. "Jim, what was that?" she asked, then almost collapsing to the floor. Moriarty caught her barely, setting her on her couch and turning to smile his evil smile to the camera. The video snapped out being replaced by Moriarty himself. "Miss me, Sherlock?" he asked, "I wonder how you think you are going to save the girl?" The video snapped back, showing Gabrielle walking with Moriarty almost like a zombie towards her bedroom. Moriarty came back into frame, "I've come up with a fun new game for us to play." Flashing back, Moriarty is laying her down on her bed and climbing in with her and touching her intimately. "Can you figure out what is about to happen?" he laughed. What followed froze all their hearts. Just voices, no video. "I am going to have my way with you and you are going to enjoy it, do you undersand?" Moriarty's voice asked. "Yes." she answered mechanically. The boys listened to the sounds, Sherlock couldn't breath. "Stop it Mycroft, turn it off." John shouted. "No." Sherlock commanded. Moriarty came back on the screen, "So, Sherlock, how are you going to save the girl? Not like she will remember what was done to her, I have made sure of it." he laughed. Moriarty continued, "You know, Sherlock, the concept of soul mates is actually true. It is deep in the DNA and it seems I have your soul mate." Sherlock shook his head, Moriarty was just trying to bait him. Until the proof flashed on the screen. Sherlock looked to Mycroft. "It is true, brother mine, I had our scientist look over this material quietly." Mycroft sighed sadly. But not because his brother finally had someone, but because that someone was now in the hands of a consulting criminal. "Oh how I love to watch you dance Sherlock, you have 5 weeks to save her, or I kill her plain and simple." Moriarty said straight faced. The recorded messaged ended, Moriarty could be seen on screen, straightening his clothes and leaving Gabrielle's flat. Well apartment, Sherlock thought, since according to the file she is an American.

"What are we going to do" John demanded, turning a color of red that was slightly alarming. "Do calm yourself, Dr. Watson. I already have a plan in the works." Mycroft said. "Working in conjunction with the Americans, you will fly in to Norfolk International Airport under your names, just so Moriarty will see that you are playing his game. But once you leave that airport, you will use a different identity to meet, try to charm and ultimately rescue the said damsel in distress." The angel's voice came across the laptop in real time, "What is this song?" she mused. The boys waited.

 _Hey What's up it's been a while_

 _Talking bout it's not my style_

 _Thought I'd see what's up while I'm lighting up_

 _it's cold-hearted, cold-hearted_

 _Know it's late but i'm so wild_

 _Saw you're face and got inspired_

 _Guess you let it go, now you're good to go_

 _it's cold-hearted, cold-hearted_

 _ohhhh, ohhhh it's probably gonna sound wrong, promise it won't last long_

 _ohhhh, ohhhh if we can ever go back, thought you'd like to know that_

 _He won't touch you like I do, He won't love you like I do_

 _He don't know your body , he don't do you right_

 _He won't love you like I would, love you like I would_

She sat scratching her head, where did that song come from. She would have remembered if she had downloaded it.

Sherlock knew who put that song on her phone. It was Moriarty and it was a message to Sherlock. "When do we leave?" Sherlock asked. Mycroft looked at Sherlock, "Dr. Watson, do you mind giving me and my brother a moment please" Sherlock stood, "We are wasting time, whatever you need to say can be said in front of John." Mycroft looked at the floor, "When you save her, what do you plan to do Sherlock? Keep her or let her go." Mycroft snapped his head back up to stare at his little brother intently, trying to gauge Sherlock's reaction. Sherlock turned slowly, his eyes darkening dangerously, "I plan to save her." Mycroft was taken back by the look in his little brother's eyes, "That is not what I asked, brother mine, keep her or let her go?" Exasperated, Sherlock snapped " I plan to keep her alright. Happy? How can I let her go knowing she is the other half of me?" John was taken back by the emotion in Sherlock's voice. Sherlock's phone pinged at that moment with the answer to the question he queried. "The name of that song is " _ **Like I Would**_ " by _**Zayn**_ , if you are wondering." Sherlock said calmly. John cleared his throat, "So when do we leave and where are we heading to exactly?" Mycroft grabbed another file folder and handed to him, "Here are the alternate personalities using your middle name John and your actual first name Sherlock, these are the ones you both will use to get to her and induct yourself into her life if at all possible." Mycroft smiled fondly at Sherlock, "You leave in a week, good luck brother mine, and do try to stay out of trouble while in the States."

The black BMW dropped them at home, where it seemed Lastrade was waiting for them. "Sorry Greg, no time to help you" Sherlock said as he walked past to begin packing. Greg Lastrade nodded in agreement, "I know, Mycroft has already had a chat with me. I'm taking you lot to the airport on the agreed day. So working with the Americans for an American huh?" Sherlock straightened, not liking the inflection in Lastrade's voice. "And your point would be, Lastrade?" Sherlock asked deadly calm, making John take notice. "Sherlock..." John warned. "Well, can I see who you will be saving or is it against the rules?" Lastrade prodded. Sherlock stalked overe to his laptop, snapping the lid up while rapidly typing in the appropriate website. Strange that he had already memorized it, John thought, but then again this was Sherlock. The site instantly let him in. Lastrade looked over Sherlock's shoulder at a woman, who was currently typing away on a laptop. She stopped long enough to turn on what looked like a speaker and pull up some music on her phone. Music poured out of the speaker while she returned to typing.

"That's the one you are going to the States to save? A bloody Yank?" Lastrade said loudly. "Actually not a bloody Yank, Lastrade, a bloody Southerner. Even worse wouldn't you say, I mean with the whole American Civil War." Sherlock angrily spoke, closing out the website. "But why?" Lastrade asked. "Oh now you sound like John, Lastrade." Sherlock sighed. "One word...Moriarty." John helped. Lastrade sharply drew in a breath, "Are you sure?" Sherlock nodded, "Absoulutely, showed himself on video." Letting the breath out, Lastrade looked shaken. "Ok, ok, right. So what do we know about her?" he asked. Sherlock didn't like Lastrade's intrest in her but answered anyways. "Her name is Leigha Johnson, 36. Leigha was married once, divorce was finalized in 2010, when she was finally able to locate her missing husband. Whom at that time had two kids with two different women. She had a fiance also in 2010, they were together for about 6 years before he left to move to another state to be with his young son and the child's mother. Poor thing, seems like she didn't have any luck with love. But then this whole soul mate deal must be true then." Sherlock finished. "Do you believe in the soul mate gene?" Lestrade asked. Sherlock shrugged as his phone pinged with an e-mail. An e-mail about her, Leigha. He turned back to the laptop and lifted the lid. The website flared to life and there she was, yet again typing away at her laptop, with more music playing quietly in the background. So she was the type who needed slight background noise to work sometimes, like Sherlock playing the violin to help him think. Lastrade was about to ask another question, when he was stopped by a voice like he had never heard before.

 _Come stop your crying, it will be alright_

 _Just take my hand, hold it tight_

 _I will protect you from all around you, I will be here don't you cry_

 _For you so small, you seem so strong_

 _My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm_

 _This bond between us can't be broken_

 _I will be here don't you cry._

 _Cause you'll be in my heart, yes you'll be in my heart_

 _From this day on, now and forever more_

Lastrade was left completely speechless. John nudged him and chuckled, "I was the same way the first time I heard her sing." Lastrade still just stood there staring with his mouth hanging open, irratating Sherlock. "Oh do shut your mouth Lestrade, it is very unbecoming." Sherlock snapped. "What was that song, it was beautiful." Lestrade asked. Before Sherlock could answer, John did. "It was _**You'll Be In My Heart**_ , performed by _**Celtic Woman**_." Sherlock and Lastrade were both shocked that John knew the answer. "What?" John asked. "And how did you know that?" Sherlock wondered. John laughed, "I looked it up on my phone." Sherlock shook his head, "Time to pack and make sure we have everything we need."

After landing safely at Norfolk International Airport in Norfolk, Virginia, Sherlock and John rented a car in the names of William Scott and Hamish Watts. John was furious, "Is this why you wouldnt show me my new ID?" Sherlock chuckled, "Maybe." With the car rented, GPS programmed, they started the four and a half hour drive to Jacksonville, North Carolina. "Well at least it is sunnier here." John said as they crossed over the North Carolina-Virginia stateline. They drove on, through small towns and past larger cities, mainly staying on the highway. About an half hour before they reached their destination, he called the number that Mycroft gave them for his former CIA favor who moved into private protection firm. The contact had them set up in the apartment building that Gabriel lived in, luckily right next door to her. But since it was getting late, they couldnt pick up the keys until the morning. As they arrived at the hotel they would be staying in tonight, they set up a dinner to meet with the contact. The contact assured them to help them outfit the apartment and act as the movers, just in case Moriarty showed up. After finishing eating and wishing them well with the promise of seeing them at 9 am the next morning, they parted ways. Sherlock was exhausted but wired, in anticipation of engineering his run in with Leigha tomorrow morning. He relayed the plan to John, who thought it was pretty decent, as long as worked.

Thankfullly, they were able to sleep through the night and managed to get up at 9 am to meet the contact at the apartment building. As he walked past Leigha's apartment , Sherlock heard her singing. Sherlock made a few more trips, when he heard what he was looking for. The sound of laughter and running. "Come back here, you little snot" Leigha said, chasing a kid that John had bribed to help move boxes and ask to borrow her broom, which she had been using as per her schedule. The 17 year old skirted around Sherlock, but Leigha plowed head long into him. Sherlock dropped the box he was holding just seconds before she mowed him down. Seeing she was going to hit the ground first, Sherlock swung her around so that she landed on top of him. "Oh my, I am so sorry" Leigha profusely apologized. Sherlock caught his breath and opened his eyes, locking on to her golden brown eyes, they had flecks of gold and green in them. Interesting, he thought. "It's okay, I'm fine so long as no one was hurt. Are you okay?" Sherlock asked. "I'm fine, I think." she said, still laying on top of Sherlock. He noticed how well she molded to his frame, when she noticed the way they were laying. Turning red, she pushed up to get up from on top of him, "I apologize again, you must be the new neighbor." she said, "What a way to welcome you to the neighborhood." Sherlock laughed a real laugh, stunning John as he walked through the hall with a box, "Well thank you. I'm William Scott and this is my friend Hamish." Sherlock tried to deduce her, but could only get a few things, like a wall was forming and falling down all at the same time. Strange, Sherlock thought. "Hamish Watts, at your service" John said smiling his hundred watt smile, that he normally reserved for beautiful women. Sherlock cleared his throat, John at least had the nerve to look chagrin. Leigha laughed her laugh, making her eyes lighten up even more in color.

A dripping sound drew John and Sherlock's attention. There was blood dripping from her elbow from where they fell. "Come inside, I have a first aid kit already pulled out. William tends to make friends with people's fists." John said laughing. "Oh, so you have the same personality that I have," Leigha chuckled, "I tend to say whatever is on my mind and rub folks the wrong way." John got some warm water and located the hydrogen peroxide, while grabbing his first aid kit. He started cleaning up the cuts to her elbow, "Well you are mighty handy Mr. Watts." she said smiling. "Oh please call me Hamish." John said. "I'm a doctor, so yeah I am kinda handy, I hope." Sherlock noticed that John was getting too comfortable interacting with her, making him jealous, until she turned those golden eyes to him. At that moment he could read her clearly, and what was this? Her eyes dilated, he would bet his favorite coat that her pulse jumped while looking at him. She was very interested in him...good. "And you Mr. Scott?" she asked. "I am a consultant." He answered. John went to place the large band-aid over the cuts, when she stopped him, "Is that a cloth bandage or latex?" John looked and said, "Cloth, why?" She smiled, "Oh just a demeratitis to latex." John smiled, "Ahh, contact dermititis." She grinned, showing slight dimples. John finished applying the bandage, "Well I appreciate the doctoring." she said laughing, "if ya'll would like, once ya'll are moved in, come over for tea or coffee. I always enjoy the company." Sherlock and John accepted, thanking her for the hospitality. She left, waving goodbye, while locking eyes with Sherlock. As the door shut, Sherlock remarked, "That was a little too easy." John nodded in agreement. "But, I rather like her, Sherlock. Aside from the us liying to her bit." John stated.

"I dislike lying to her." Sherlock muttered, shocking John. "What, since when? When did you suddenly take an aversion to lying to people since you do it almost all the time?" asked John. Sherlock shook his head. Sherlock paced the apartment, stopping in the dining room. He could her music playing through the wall and her singing. John didn't know what to make of the situation. Sherlock mused, "Did you notice the ring on her left thumb?" John nodded that he did. "It's the infinity symbol repeated, she believes in ever lasting love. I don't know that I could give that to her." Sherlock said, worrying the floor pacing. "My God, Sherlock, stop pacing and just go knock on her door. She invited you to tea." John said with some slight irratation. Sherlock looked slightly green at the prospect of going alone, "Us, you mean. She invited us to tea." John smiled, "Yes, but she only had eyes for you." Sherlock began pacing again, but closer to the wall this time. Listening, he noticed the solid outlet cover. Grabbing a phillips head screwdriver from the table, he proceeded to remove the outlet cover. Her voice came through louder. "I think I will go, you coming?" Sherlock asked. "No, beg off for me...jet lag or something or another." John replied smiling. Sherlock, out of habit, threw on his suit jacket while opening the door. A blast of heat hit him, "Well I guess I can forgot the jacket, which is rather nice for a change." Sherlock said. "Yes, very." John mumbled, drifting off to sleep.

Sherlock moved slowly down the hallway of the building, unsure as to the reception he would get with it just being himself. Politely knocking, he waited. The music lowered before she opened the door. "Oh hello, Mr. Scott. Please come in." she said. "Please, call me William." Sherlock replied, detesting the use of his first name. "Ok, William, then." she smiled. Nevermind, he loved the way it rolled off her tongue in her southern accent. "Would you like tea or coffee, I imagine tea since you are British." she asked. Sherlock smiled at the stereo-type. "Whatever you are having is fine." Sherlock replied. He watched her move around the kitchen while pouring him a cup of coffee, which was what she was already drinking. She moved with a dancer's grace, so quiet, so light on her feet. As she placed the cup in front of him, offering him milk or creamer and sugar, Sherlock had to know more about her. "So if you don't mind me asking, what do you do?" he asked, "Other than sing so beautifully?" She blushed, "Oh, so you heard that huh. Well, if I ever get too annoying just let me know." Sherlock waved her suggestion away, "Never, you have an amazing voice." She thanked him and proceeded to answer his orginial question, "I ghost write, also write songs for people."

They talked about anything and everything they could. "I hope I am not keeping you from anything important." Sherlock said. She, then, waved away his words, "No, usually it is just me here. Very little company. Just my sister on an odd occasion" she said frowning. "Boyfriend?" Sherlock asked, "I wouldn't want him to get the wrong idea if so." She looked down before she answered, "I thought so, but I blacked out one night and haven't heard from him since. So you're guess is as good as mine." she said sadly. "He was British, like yourself. So sweet. I guess I just don't have any luck when it comes to love, William." she confided in him, unsure of why she was doing so. "Maybe, he realized you were too good for him." Sherlock stated. She laughed, "That I doubt."

A week later, Sherlock worked up the nerve to ask her out to dinner. John worried that Sherlock would bust a blood vessel trying to figure out the right way to ask. As Sherlock went to open the front door, he heard a crash and scream from Leigha's apartment. John shot up off the couch, following Sherlock. Sherlock banged on the front door but the yelling was too loud. Sherlock tried the door knob, thankfully it was unlocked. They busted in, only to find Leigha bleeding from a cut on her head and pinned down on the couch by none other than Moriarty. Sherlock grabbed him and tossed him away from her, while John pulled his gun from his jacket pointing it at Moriarty. "Well, well, well. About time. I thought you would never work up the nerve to be the knight in shining armor. You were boring me, you were being ordinary." said Moriarty snidely. Leigha slide slowly to the end of her couch, farther away from Moriarty and Sherlock mimiced her movement to keep her shielded from the criminal. "Get out." John commanded, gun still pointed at Moriarty's head. "Fine, but I will be seeing you again, my dear and we will be having some more fun." he said laughing, speaking to Leigha, taking steps closer to Sherlock. John cocked the gun, still trained on him. Moriarty whispered to Sherlock, "I can get her anytime, anywhere and you as well. You can't watch her forever before you will get bored. Soul mate or not, you will get bored. And then I will destroy you both. I will burn you." Moriarty turned and strode out the door. Leigha finally released the breath she had been holding and the tears. Sherlock sat down next to her and enveloped her in his arms. "What did Jim mean? Soul mates? What is going on?" she asked, question pouring out as fast as her tears. John went to check on her head. Sherlock just sat holding her, livid beyond belief that Moriarty would try this stunt. John looked over and saw Sherlock's face, "William, take Leigha next door and explain everything. She needs to know." Sherlock nodded, while helping her up.

"William, please tell me what is going on." she implored. Sherlock sat her on the couch in his living room before answering, "As much as I adore you calling me William, please call me Sherlock." She looked at him, "What? What did you say?" Sherlock sat down in front of her on the coffee table, "My name is William Sherlock Scott Holmes, please call me Sherlock, all of my friends do." As she sat processing that, tears rolled down her cheeks intermittently. Sherlock leaned over and handed her some tissues, "And my friend is Dr. John Watson. He hates Hamish, which is his middle name." Realization dawned in her eyes. "I've read about you on the internet, solving crimes around London. But why are you here in America?" she asked. "Two reason," said Sherlock, "One, simply is you. You are my soul mate. And two, is you are in danger from Moriarty, who has a bit of a unhealthy fascination with me." Leigha chuckled, "Yeah I can see that." Sherlock looked perplexed. "He kept telling me that he could take me away from Sherlock and that he would do so painfully, he kept on and on. Talking about all the ways he could do it, scared the life out of me. I couldn't figure out who this Sherlock person was until you told me your name." she explained. "My God, I am so sorry that I didn't tell you earlier, Leigha. I actually had planned on asking you out to dinner tonight to explain it all." Sherlock said apologizing. "You were going to ask me out?" she said smiling for the first time since the incident. "Out of all that, and all you got was that I was going to ask you out." Sherlock chuckled. John popped his head in the door, "I take it we are going to be camping out here now?"

"Either way, here or there, Moriarty will be expecting it." Sherlock said to John. Leigha looked at Sherlock and said, "Well?" Sherlock lost in thought, jerked. "Well, what?" Leigha laughed, "Aren't you going to ask me out?" Sherlock looked surprised, "Only if you agree with it and are feeling up to it." She nodded her agreement. "So what is the game plan, Mr. Holmes." Sherlock frown, "I said call me Sherlock, Mr. Holmes is my father." Leigha chuckled and agreed. "All I can think of, is taking you to London. On my turf, so to speak, easier to defend." he said. Leigha took a moment to think about what Sherlock had said, while accepting a soda from John. She laughed, "Sure, I don't see why not." Sherlock was not expecting her to be so level headed. "So, would you like to go out to dinner with me?" Sherlock asked with a small smile. She agreed.

She asked Sherlock what he was in the mood for, the only thought that formed in his head was her. He was in the mood for her, but it was too soon to suggest that. "How about Chinese?" he asked. She agreed, stating that she loved chinese food. She wandered over to her apartment to get ready, with Sherlock in tow. "John, do me a favor and keep yourself next door tonight." Sherlock pleaded, while pt in the hallway of the apartment building. John looked at Sherlock, "Are you alright?" Sherlock shook his head, "I need her John, I can't wait but after today... I don't want to scare her." John took a moment to think and reflect on what had happened today. "I honestly don't think you will Sherlock. She bounces back pretty well, if you noticed." John stated. Sherlock agreed to his statement. He left John to keep an eye on her while he went back next door to change and to give himself time to think. What if she refused him, after he tells her everything, especally after what happened today. How would he handle that rejection? These were the questions he could never ask John's opinion on. Sherlock Holmes may be the greatest consulting detective of his time but he was thoroughly uneducated when it came to women. They were a experiment that he never seem to have time for, but then none of them were anything like Leigha. She was kind, sweet, funny, understanding...she was everything. Sherlock gasped and quickly sat down.

Love...He was in love. No. No, not the great Sherlock Holmes. It couldn't be, but there it was right in front of him. At the slightest thought that she would reject him, made his chest hurt. Dear God, he knew exactly what love was...a chemical reaction in the brain, that made some people temporarily stupid. He had seen it time and time again with John. He walked down the hall into his room, which shared a wall with Leigha's room. He heard her clearly singing, thinking that he was lucky to get sung to sleep every night. He sat on his bed, just listening to her sing.

 _It's amazing how you can speak right to my heart,_

 _without saying a word you can light up the dark._

 _Try as I may I can never explain, what I hear when you don't say a thing._

 _The smile on your face, let's me know that you need me_

 _There's a truth in your eyes, saying you'll never leave me._

 _The touch of your hand, says you'll catch me if ever I fall._

 _You say it best when you say nothing at all._

Sherlock could tell from the sound of her voice she was leaning against the wall right next to where he was sitting. He stood and gently placed his hands on the wall, right where her shoulders would be given her height. And he continued to listen to what she was saying to him.

 _All day long I can hear people talking out loud, but when you hold me near_

 _You can drown out the crowd._

 _Old Mr. Webster could never define what's being said between your heart and mine._

 _The smile on your face, let's me know that you need me_

 _There's a truth in your eyes, saying you'll never leave me._

 _The touch of your hand, says you'll catch me if ever I fall._

 _You say it best when you say nothing at all._

Sherlock didn't want to stop touching the wall, but he quickly looked up the song on his phone. She was singing Alison Krauss' version of " _ **When You Say Nothing At All**_ ".

 _The smile on your face, let's me know that you need me_

 _There's a truth in your eyes, saying you'll never leave me._

 _The touch of your hand, says you'll catch me if ever I fall_

 _You say it best when you say nothing at all._

Sherlock quickly downloaded it to his phone. He wasn't much for country music but he was learning to love it. It was a music that spoke to you sometimes. Sherlock's phone vibrated, he looked down...Mycroft. How could he almost forget his annoying older brother. **Any developments? Mycroft Holmes** _._ Sherlock shook his head, **No hello brother mine? SH**. The response was almost instant. **Hello. Any developments? Mycroft Holmes**. Sherlock would just send one more response and then do his normal ignoring of his brother. **Almost. Going out to dinner. Leave me to work, My. SH** _._ There that should do it, or irratate his brother enough to jump on the private jet and fly over here. Then it hit him, the exact way he could get her safely to London. But it could hold until after dinner, and hopefully...dessert.

The moon was out and full as they headed to a chinese place down the street that Leigha had ordered take-out from before. While waiting to be seated, Sherlock complimented her on her outfit. "Thanks, I usually don't have a lot of reasons to get semi-dressed up." She said as she looked at Sherlock from under her lashes. What a time to get nervous around him, she thought. The time they had spent together the last two weeks or so, should of prepared her for this. But this was an actual date, not just a sit down with coffee or tea. Her nerves were starting to get the better of her and Sherlock could see it. "Leigha, calm down please, you'll make everyone in here think I have abducted you." he whispered to her. She turned to him with a surprised look on her face, as they were lead to their table, and she laughed. "You're right, of course. I'm sorry, I don't know what has come over me." she replied. I can think of a few things, Sherlock thought, as he watched the thoughts fly quickly over her face. Her main thought was sex, of course. The waiter interuppted their silent conversation, asking for their order. Leigha flushed a bright crimson in the dim lights, as her thoughts ping-ponged all over the place. She tried to think of a safe topic of discussion, while staring at her placemat. Damn it, Leigha, think of something, anything. Got it, travel. As she looked up to ask a question about London, she realized that Sherlock was not in his seat but instead standing next to her. Her mouth formed a small o of surprise, that she had not heard him move. He came down to her level and whispered, "I've been wanting to do this all day, if I may?" She closed her mouth and nodded her head that it was alright.

Sherlock leaned forward, lightly gripping her jaw, until their lips met. It was like fireworks going off in Sherlock's head, and her taste was better than any drug he had ever tried. He knew then that he would never get enough of her, as he struggled to pull away from her. Leigha's mind shattered, fragmented. Not one coherent thought could form in her head, all she could think about was Sherlock and getting another taste of him. He tasted of spearmint and man, slightly wild and fully ready to take what he wanted. "Thank you." he whispered. All she could do was nod and smile slightly. Come on, Leigha, get a hold of yourself. She took a deep breath and tried to organize her thoughts. Sherlock watched the thoughts and feelings run across her face. Intriquing...lust, happiness, some slight sadness, lust, thoughts of must have more, Sherlock saw. He wondered where the slight sadness came in, "Why sadness?" Leigha started, not expecting to hear him ask the question so soon. She let out the breath, still a bit unsteady, "Sadness because I don't know what to exppect and how long this will last." Sherlock nodded, thinking if he had his way, it would last for the rest of their lives. He looked to the infinity ring still on her thumb, which she was unconsciously rubbing with her first finger. Well at least she is also considering it, or at least hoping the same, he thought. She began to steer the conversation into safer waters for her, asking all kinds of questions about London. Sherlock explained that ,yes, they would be on his home territory, they could do some, if not all, the tourist traps as long as the threat to her was not too great. She seemed thrilled at the prospect of seeing London and hopefully Ireland, and Sherlock surprised himself by being just as happy to show it to her.

Sherlock was again surprised that he was enjoying the evening as much as he was. The food was superb, the conversation witty and stimulating. Almost the perfect evening in his opinion, even if it was the first evening in the comapny of a woman who wasn't looking to "punish" him. Leigha didn't honestly want the evening to end, so she suggested a walk near her favorite spot, the New River. Since she knew the area so much better, Sherlock suggested she drive them there. She chuckled as she agreed, siting that she was much better suited to driving on the right side of the road. Sherlock laughed and agreed that Americans were backwards. She faked taking offense and lightly slapped his arm. When they arrived at the park, the gate was closed. She pulled the car further down the road, out of sight. "The moon will give us enough light to see to get in." she pointed out nervously. As they began walking into the park, Sherlock took her hand, lacing his fingers in hers. She looked down, smiling, guiding him through unfimiliar territory. "When we first moved here, my ex-fiance and I came here to walk and spend time together on sunny day. It started off as a rather cool day but grew warm enough not to need jackets. I was able to get some really great pictures." she old Sherlock. "I would love to see them one day" Sherlock told her. Honestly he thought, he would really like that a lot. They reached the end of the path, which lead out over the New River slightly. The sound of lapping water hitting the wooden pier was soothing. Leigha wished he would kiss her again, but she was too nervous to make the first move.

Sherlock watched how the moonlight played over her hair, accented her high cheekbones, showing a trace of Native American hertiage. In his mind, she was beautiful and she didn't even know it. Sherlock pulled her arm until she stumbled and bump against his chest. He held her upper arms so she didn't fall and looked down at her. Her eyes had dilated to the point that they looked black, he slid his hands down to her wrists. The pulse there was rapid and her breathing was fast and shallow. There was no denying that she wanted him. "I'm going to apologize now." he said. She wanted to ask for what but her throat had gone dry and didn't want to work, she knew for what he was apologizing in advance for. The wildness she sensed in him, tightly tethered and ruthlessly controlled, was at its breaking point. Sherlock leaned down, making her lean her head back to see him. He held her tight against him as he crushed his lips to hers, making her gasp. He walked her backwards until she bumped against the railing of the pier, his hands trailed down to her waist. His lips trailed along her jaw to that sweet spot on her neck. She could feel his breath, feathering lightly across the crook of her neck and shoulder. "I don't think I can wait, Legha." Sherlock gasped leaving her neck to return to her lips. Her body went pliant against his, a moan escaping her. She managed to pry her eyes open and focus, "Home, then?" Yes, Sherlock thought, most definetly home.

How they managed to make it back to the apartment alive, amazed Sherlock. Leigha seemed to be driving on autopilot. On the way, Sherlock texted John asking him to clear out of her apartment. John replied that he would and he would see them in the morning and to have a good night. God love John, Sherlock thought. Leigha slammed the rental car into park in front of the building, snatching the keys from the ignition. Rummaging through her bag for her house keys, Sherlock pinned her against the door with a searing kiss. He pulled back, jingling the keys in his right hand. She focused on what he had and laughed, "My God, I feel like a horny teenager out on her first date." Little did she know how close to home she hit with that statement, Sherlock prayed and hoped he wouldn't disappoint. As they strolled inside her apartment, she asked in that sultry southern accented voice of hers, "Nightcap?" Sherlock figured it couldn't hurt to have some liquid courage, "What have you got." She dug around after unlocking a cabinet, "Not much, I really don't drink often, but I have some of a typical Southern favorite, Jack Daniels or some Jim Beam if you would like." Sherlock debated, "I will have whatever you are having." She laughed, "Very diplomatic, Sherlock." He shook his head. "No, that would be my brother. He is the diplomat, not me. I'm just the screw up consulting detective." She stopped dead in her tracks, "Sherlock Holmes," she said sharply, "I may not have known you for very long, but don't you ever let me hear you say that about yourself again. And so help me, if I ever hear of your brother saying it either, God help him." She set the drink down in front of Sherlock and he thought that famous Southern temper would be a refreshing wake up call for his brother.

Sherlock shook his head, stop thinking of Mycroft. Think of Leigha, right here, right now. There we go Sherlock, back on track, he thought to himself. He watched her slam back her drink and was about to do the same, when he thought to ask what exactly she had poured them. She laughed and told him she had poured her favorite, Jack Daniels, southern whiskey. He was amazed that she slammed it without a wince nor a tear in her eye. She had some Irish in her. He wondered how she would do with some Jaimeson's Irish Whiskey. He tossed his drink back, feeling it burn all the way down to his stomach. She poured herself one more, offering Sherlock another finger of whiskey. He declined. She knocked it back like a pro. Suddenly her head snapped around to him, "I don't think I want to meet your brother, I might do something completely unladylike, like punching him." All Sherlock could do was laugh, "I have those moments all the time with Mycroft." Leigha sat next to Sherlock, enjoying the way his face lit up with laughter. "Mycroft? Seriously, what kind of name is that?" she mused. Sherlock brushed his knuckles down he cheek, "Let's not talk of my brother." She stood and offered her hand to him, leading him to her bedroom, cutting off the dining room light as they went. The moon was pouring in through the window, drenching the bed in silver.

"If we are going to fast let me know." Sherlock said. She nodded okay. His lips were like fire on her skin, as they fought for sanity and to remove their clothes. It was as if this would be their last night, frantic hands, harsh breaths. Sherlock came close to missing the creak of the door and the almost silent foot fall. Spinning around to put himself between Leigha and the unknown threat, he heard the disembodied voice speak. "Isn't she sweet? I know why you can't wait to get with her but then people do get to sentimental about their pets, or in this case, their new toys." Sherlock grew livid...Moriarty. If only I had a gun, thought Sherlock. The apartment was pitch black, they couldn't see anyone or anything. There was not enough moonlight coming through the window to provide light. "Do you know what happens if you don't leave her to me, Sherlock?" Moriarty's voice continued. "Oh let me guess, I get killed." Sherlock said in a flat voice, he couldn't let emotion get the better of him this time, not when they were so vunerable. "Kill you? Well, no, don't be obvious. I mean I'm going to kill you anyways, someday. I don't want to rush it though. I'm saving it up for something special. No, no, no, no. If you don't leave her to me like I said, I will burn you. I'll burn the heart out of you." said Moriarty angerly.

"I have been reliably informed that I dont have one." Sherlock said calmly. "Oh but we know that's not quite true." Moriarty said pointedly, stepping slightly into a beam of moonlight. Sherlock heard the telltale click of a gun. "She is coming with me, Sherlock." Moriarty said. "No, I don't think so." Sherlock retorted. "Oh, but I do think so my dear." Moriarty chuckled. Sherlock heard the puff of the CO2 cartridge as it fired the invisible projectile,a sedative dart. Pushing Leigha back into a corner to make sure it didn't hit her, Sherlock felt the bite of the dart. Fighting to stay awake and upright, Sherlock made his way towards Moriarty. "Damn!" he thought to himself, as he fell to the ground. Moriarty leaned down to whisper to Sherlock, "We are still playing the game Sherlock, who will win? You or me. My bet is on me." he laughed. "Come and save her before I burn the heart out of the both of you." Sherlock still tried to fight the sedative pumping through his system, hearing Leigha fight and yell his name. "Come, my dear, it's time to go home." Moriarty laughed. Home was the last thought Sherlock had before the sedative took full effect.

"Sherlock!" John yelled, scared at seeing his friend passed out on the ground, in the midmorning light. "What's happened? Where's Leigha? Are you alright?" Sherlock felt like his head was about to explode, it must have been that bloody elephant tranquilizer they shot me with. "John, not so loud please. It was Moriarty, he took her and shot me with a tranquilizer dart." Sherlock said quietly, for fear his head would pop off if he spoke too loud. "Any idea as to where he has taken her?" John asked. Sherlock struggled to remember the last few things that were said before he went under. "Help me up." Sherlock asked. At least in the sitting position, his head didn't feel as bad. Sherlock grabbed his phone from his pocket, there was only one person who could get them back to London quickly...Mycroft. **Moriarty took her. Need ride home. Come at once. If convenient. SH**. Sherlock didn't honestly expect a rapid response, partly due to the time difference. **What happened? Mycroft Holmes**. Of course his brother wanted details when time was of the essence. **No time. Details when you pick us up. If inconvenient, come anyway. SH**. His phone stayed blessedly silent after that. Sherlock looked up at John, "Moriarty said to her that it was time to go home. And so it is."

After being tranquilized, Sherlock sported dark sunglasses while waiting at the airport for the private jet to land and take them home to London. And closer to finding Leigha, Sherlock thought. Watching the plane coming towards them so it could refuel and get back underway to ferry it's two newest passengers home, John looked worriedly at Sherlock. Knowing he had to be taking this hard, John hoped that Mycroft would have some tact and not take it out on Sherlock. Mycroft stood at the open door, staring down at his brother, noting the fact that Sherlock had not shaved at all. How unlike his brother, this must be really getting to him, Mycroft thought. As the men boarded the plane, Mycroft asked, "What happened?" Sherlock relayed the events of the night before, ending with Moriarty's threat, taking Leigha, and saying that it was time to go home. "My God, Sherlock. He tranquilized you?" Mycroft asked. Sherlock nodded that it did indeed happen. "Let me sleep, My. When we get back to Baker Street, I will answer all your questions." Sherlock pleaded. Mycroft knew it was bad if Sherlock was calling him My, which he very rarely did, unless it was to annoy him. Mycroft nodded and left him to lay down on the longest place he could stretch his lanky frame across. Once they were in the air and fairly sure Sherlock was fully asleep, Mycroft questioned John. Answering as much as he could to what events he could, "I wasn't present last night Mycroft, Sherlock asked me to stay next door." Mycroft's head snapped up. "Why, why would you do that Dr. Watson?" Mycroft hissed. "Because, Sherlock is my friend and he wanted some time alone with his soul mate." John snapped back.

Sherlock heard them whispering between themselves as he dozed off and on during the flight. He would have slept but everytime he went deep enough into real sleep, he heard Leigha yelling his name. The fear in her voice was real and Sherlock blamed himself for not being able to save her. If he had only texted his brother when she agreed to go to London with him, instead of asking her out on a date like a horny teenager, then she would still be with him right now. Not in the hands of Moriarty, with him doing God knows what to her. Those images filtering through his head were the worst, he could invision everything that Moriarty could do to her. Through his dark sunglasses he could see John constantly looking at him, worry creasing his brow. He wanted to reassure his friend, but didn't see how he could since he couldn't even reassure himself.

Already back in London, after getting a nice head start on Sherlock, Moriarty walked around Leigha. "We are going to have some fun burning the heart out of him, my dear." he laughed. "Well! Actually, in the end, you will be ripping it out." She struggled against her bonds, "Never! I will be damned if I help you!" Picking up a syringe and showing it to her, "Oh, my dear, when I am done with you, you won't have a choice in the matter!" Moriarty laughed evilly. "Lights, camera, ACTION!" he yelled. The camera light snapped on and focused on the scene before it. "This is a little teaser trailer that I will play for Sherlock at a later date." he told Leigha. "I want him to watch as I break you. I want him to feel your pain every time you scream. I want him to die a little each time he sees you bleed." he said with a slight smile to his voice. Another man walked over to a small rolling table filled with a wide variety of torture devices. "Don't have the balls to do it yourself, Jim?" Leigha snapped. "Oh no, my dear, I don't get my hands dirty." he replied calmly, "Now let's begin."

The silent man turned his back to Leigha as he chose the item he wanted to start this session off. "I can't wait to mold you into a fine gift for our dear Sherlock." Moriarty laughed, the light on the camera flashing as it recorded. The man's arm moved, quick as a snake, making the tazer connect with Leigha's skin. She screamed long and loud. Her hands bound above her head, she couldn't do much to get away from the pain. She watchd the man's feet everytime he moved to strike her or taze her. There, she thought. She waited for the next strike. She saw the telltale shift in the man's feet just before he struck out at her. Leigha let her weight drop as she swung backwards, like she was on a swing. Swinging forward, she snapped her legs up to kick the man hard, in the chest. The man skidded back, rubbing his chest, a murderous glint in his eye. "Well done, you." Moriarty said, clapping sedately. "Well, you should have known that I wasn't just some simple, poor little Southern belle." Leigha growled. The crackling of electricity reached her ears. She couldn't stop her backswing. Screaming, she struggled to take herself out of reach of a second man she hadn't seen, as he layed another tazer to her skin.

After shocking and beating her, off and on over a span of a couple of hours, she was cut down and thrown into a small, dirty cage. My God, how she hurt, she thought. "Sherlock..." she whispered, wishing he could hear her. Sighing, she realized how utterly tired she was, she tried to doze off. It felt like she had only been asleep for a minute or two, when she was snatched out of the cage and strapped down to a large table. Moriarty began his pacing around her once again, smirking, while the camera was being set up. "Just one more scene before I start destroying your love, my dear." Moriarty smiled. Leigha inhaled as quietly and deeply as she could, while Moriarty leaned over her to brush a stray hair out of her face. Acting like she was recoiling from his touch, she spit in his face. "Go to hell." she hissed, "I won't be the pawn in your sick game." Moriarty froze for a moment before grabbing a rag near his elbow, wiping his face. The camera flashed to life. The same man that she had kicked, grabbed her arm roughly, ripping the sleeve from her shirt. Another man stepped up to stand at her head, standing ready. The first man snatchd up a syringe and jabbing it in her arm, making her cry out in pain. He smiled sadistically at her. She swore to herself that she would continue to fight, so she could ease anything Moriarty did to Sherlock. He would see her fighting and stand strong.

Moriarty leaned down to look at her, "I'm going to warp you and you learn to hate and destory what you love, do you understand?" She struggled not to answer, but it slipped out against her will. "Yes, I understand." She said, growing angry. Moraiarty saw the fire of anger burning in her eyes, "Good, that's what I want to see." he said happily, rubbing his hands together like a child who had gotten the candy he wanted. "Begin.", he said as he walked away to somewhere behind the camera. Video began playing on the ceiling above her head of Sherlock. No sound, just video. Sherlock smiling with John. Sherlock sitting in his chair, typing on his phone. Sherlock talking with John. Subconciously, she knew the anger she felt was from the liquid the man had pumped into her vein. But to her, it seemed like Sherlock was not even bothering to look for her, to save her from this madness. A single tear managed to escape through the drug induced haze and rolled down the side of her face. It shimmered silver in the bright lights. The last image she saw was Sherlock, standing at a window, just staring out. The drug sent her system into overload and she began to have a seizure. The man standing at her head, grabbed her, making sure that she didn't swallow her tongue or bash her head in. The camera caught it all, Moriarty thought happily, this should be a great start to the second half of his game.

He turned toward the camera, speaking directly to Sherlock. "Are you dying yet, Sherlock? Or have you given up yet, knowing that I could just as easily destroy you as well?" he asked. The camera turned back to show that Leigha had stopped having a seizure and was being checked out by a faceless doctor, before being thrown back into the small cage. "Cut. Let's edit this baby to send to Sherlock." Moriarty snapped. He didn't want much edited out, the recordings were just too good to end up on the cutting room floor, so to speak. So it wouldn't take long to get it done and get it delivered to 221 B Baker Street. He couldn't wait, this was almost as good as Christmas.

Sherlock stood slightly back from the window, not really seeing anything outside of it. It was 4 in the morning, when the doorbell rang. John walked past the unmoving form of Sherlock, sighing. There had been no leads, clues, not even a peep of chatter. It was quiet, as if the criminal world was waiting with a held breath for something. But what?, John thought. He hurried down the stairs to the door before the person rang again and woke up Mrs. Hudson. Odd, John thought, opening the door to find no one there and no one walking away down the sidewalk in either direction. Turning to come back in, he saw it. A CD taped to door near the knocker. John yelled for Sherlock to come quick. Sherlock swung around from the window, rushing out the door to their flat, and down the stairs. Taking the stairs two or three steps at a time, "Don't touch it.", he commanded. Knowing full well that John hadn't and wouldn't. After inspecting the CD, he instructed John to call Lestrade while he called his brother.

By the way Lestrade heard Sherlock talking in the background, he wondered if Leigha's abduction would land Sherlock into a padded cell. Mycroft thought Sherlock had lost it, listening to Sherlock speak so fast that most of it was incoherent. Lestrade arrived moments behind Mycroft, who had already been notified the moment Sherlock had moved from the window and headed to the door. The four men stood in the hallway just staring at the CD. Mrs. Hudson,who had been woken by the bell and appeared behind them suddenly, clear her throat. "How about some tea while you all decide whether or not to watch it or to fingerprint it." she suggested. The men nodded as Sherlock removed some latex gloves from his dressing robe's pocket, using them to remove and handle the CD. Knowing that it had to be from Moriarty, it could be poisoned or anything equally crazy. Moving up the stairs the men silently debated between them as what to do about the silver disc. Finally Sherlock spoke, "No point in finger printing it, he would not of left any. Nor would any of his henchmen.

Sherlock popped the CD into his laptop, while the others gathered around. It opened with Moriarty's smug face, wishing that Sherlock enjoy the show. Sherlock's only wish at that time was he could beat Moriarty's face in. The men stayed silent as the sounds of torture and Leigha's screams rang out through the room, along with the sounds of her fighting back. Sherlock remebered seeing that the CD was labeled Week 1. Here was a weeks worth of torture nicely condensed into a neat little package. The video got so bad that Mrs. Hudson had to excuse herself with tears in her eyes. The men hardly acknowledged the poor woman as she walked away. "Sherlock, just stop it." John pleaded. "No." Sherlock responed, no emotion to his voice. The words his brother constantly saying to him, that all lives end and all hearts are broken and that caring was not an advantage, kept replaying over in his head. "Sherlock, stop punishing yourself." Mycroft said, hoping to get through to his little brother. Lestrade leaned over Sherlock to turn it off, when Sherlock got up. "Excuse me.", he said, still showing no emotion. "Sherlock..." John called as Sherlock walked off to his room and shut the door.

Sherlock sat on his bed, absorbing what he had just witnessed. Leigha's screams and the sound of her torture would haunt him, if he ever went to sleep. Something had to give, Sherlock thought, his anger surfacing quickly. He sprung from the bed, proceeding to destroy the room and its contents. He needed to destroy something, anything, to release this terrible pressure in his chest. Hearing the commotion coming from Sherlock's room, John and Lestrade burst through the door with Mycroft just behind them, the men shocked at the amount of destruction Sherlock had managed in a short amount of time. Sherlock headed for the bag that he and John had packed with a few of Leigha's things, still tearing the room apart. Lestrade grabbed Sherlock from behind, locking his arms around Sherlock's torso effectively trapping Sherlock's arms.

Sherlock saw what he was about to do and almost instantly calmed down. "I'm fine, Gregory, thank you, but you can let me go now." he said calmly. Letting go, Sherlock walked past the three men staring at the destruction. He had to finish the DVD, there could be a clue in the video. He grit his teeth and started the DVD back up again. It picked up where it had been stopped. Sherlock saw Leigha now strapped to a table, injecting with an unknown liquid, with video playing above her, it was of him. He noticed that most of the shots were older, from just before he started this journey. The last shot he saw was of himself staring out the window, unmoving. His heart broke when he saw that Leigha began having a seizure from the liquid she was injected with. Moriarty would pay, Sherlock thought. He just had to find him first. He couldn't leave her in the madman's hands any longer, he hoped that his homeless network would hear something. The three men had wandered back in about the time of the seizure, Lestrade and John's eyes misting as they watched in horror. "What have they done to her?" John asked. "Don't know, but if we can find them, hopefully we can get a sample of the liquid and find out." Sherlock answered. Mycroft asked Sherlock for the CD, hoping to have it analyzed. Sherlock quickly ripped a copy, then handed the offending disc to his brother. Mycroft said his goodbyes and left as quickly as he came, hesitating only a moment wanting to say something to Sherlock, but didn't. He had no idea what to say, no idea how to help his brother deal with what he may be feeling. Sherlock knew his feelings on emotions.

Sherlock moved to his chair, steepling his fingers while he thought. Lestrade also said his goodbyes, telling John to keep him updated and that if they heard anything that he was there to help. John turned to Sherlock, "Are you alright?" Sherlock looked at John, "No I'm not. I want to destroy Moriarty." John nodded that he agreed, Leigha didn't deserve the treatment she was recieving. Sherlock moved back to the laptop, bringing the video back up. "Oh, Sherlock, don't." John said softly. Sherlock shook his head, "No I saw something, I just need to make sure I saw what I saw." Sherlock pulled up the exact scene he was looking for. "There, right there." Sherlock pointed out. John looked close as he saw a silvery shimmer slid down Leigha's face. "A tear?" John asked curiously. "Yes, a single tear. She is still her, just locked inside her own head." Sherlock answered. "What do you mean, locked inside her own head?" John then asked. Sherlock began to explain that he felt sure that Moriarty was trying to brainwash Leigha, maybe trying to turn her into something else than the sweet person she was. Sherlock hoped he was correct, because it could be undone. John bid him good night, stating that they needed to try and get a little sleep. Sherlock waved him off, stating that he would nap on the couch. Sherlock spent the rest of the early morning pacing and thinking, taking breaks to doze on the couch like he told John he would.

When Sherlock decided to give up trying to rest, he went out. Maybe his network had some answers. As he walked down Baker Street, he noticed a woman walking towards him. Her walk was so like Leigha'sthat his heart skipped a beat. The woman pulled a phone from her coat pocket, looking at what was presumably a text, since she did start speaking into the phone immedately. **I'm giving you your treat. Heading towards you now. Keep him busy until time.** With her head canted down, she looked up through her lashes to see none other than Sherlock Holmes heading toward her. Lovely, she thought, this should be fun. As they started to pass one another, she grabbed Sherlock. Letting her hood fall back, she kissed him for all she was worth. Sherlock was so stunned, he didn't react as fast as he could have. Finally, untangling himself, he saw that he stood toe to toe with Irene Adler.

"So how about dinner, Sherlock? God knows I have asked you to dine with me enough." she purred, running her hand up and down his arm. Removing her hand, he asked, "What are you doing here? Should you really be back in London after the last debacle?" She laughed. "Oh you know I like to misbehave, my dear Sherlock." Sherlock frowned, turning to walk away from the woman. The misbehaving dominatrix, he thought. She, of course, kept pace with Sherlock, slipping her arm through his. "Oh come now, Sherlock. Have dinner with me, you choose. Maybe somewhere candle lit and private, just you and me." she tried again. Sherlock finally frustrated with the offending woman, jerked his arm out of her grasp. "No. I'm involved..." he said, trailing off, not wanting to explain anything to this woman. As far as he was concerned, it was none of her business. "Involved?" Irene said laughing, "Oh no, I don't think so. In fact, last I heard, that lovely little American fling of yours went and got herself taken by a very bad man."

Sherlock took a deep breath, trying to keep his anger at bay. How dare she make light of Leigha's misfortune, Sherlock thought. "She wasn't a fling." he stated simply. A flash of light caught Sherlock in the eyes, briefly blinding him. Once he was able to see again, he jerked his head towards the direction he believed the light had come from, only to see a man with a camera walking away. A little too fast for someone to have not been doing something wrong, he thought. But now he knew how Moriarty was getting video of him. Moriarty obviously thought to place Irene Adler in his way and get some more video of him to use on Leigha. Irene wrapped her arms around his neck, "So, that's a no to dinner with me?" Sherlock disengaged the irratating woman and walked away. Laughing, "Until next time, Sherlock." she called smiling. He turned back, "Until never, Miss Adler, and then even further." Sherlock retorted. He checked his network, no one knew anything.. Everything was still quiet. Damn it, he thought, another week of Leigha still in Moriarty's hands. The madman had been sending him taunts and little snippets of video of Leigha. So far Mycroft's people could find nothing to pinpoint Moriarty and Leigha's whereabouts. When Sherlock returned home, he let John know that they were being watched and filmed, stating it was obviously for Leigha's torture.

Wrapping up Week 2's torture, Morairty announced to Leigha that he had a special treat for her. She was strapped back to the table once more, while the camera rolled on catching every tear, every drop of blood, every bruise. They had beaten her. Raped her. Cut her. Broken a few bones as well, she thought from the pain she was feeling from the current session. A man walked up with the hateful syringe. Not even wincing when he jabbed her with it, she knew she was fast losing hope. She was too numb. Two and a half weeks, she thought. Moriarty had been kind enough to tell her just how long she had here, the soul focus of his lovely hospitality, she thought sarcastically. As the serum took effect, video began playing on the ceiling again. What little that was left of Leigha was fully expecting the same video from before. But this time it was a new one, Sherlock in the arms of some woman, kissing her. Leigha's mind shattered, just as Moriarty had hoped it would. She snapped into a few hundred little pieces, a new part of her emerged, slowly trying to piece her back together. "The woman is Irene Adler." Moriarty explained, "Sherlock and her have somewhat of a past." The new Leigha stored the name next to the names of the people who would pay. When she saw the hateful woman wrap her arms around Sherlock's neck, Leigha burst up. She managed to break two of her restraints before Moriarty's men subdued her. The camera and the video were shut off. Leigha was then locked away back in her cage. "It's time." Moriarty said, "Edit the footage according to these directions. Then in two days, drop her off with the boys at Baker Street." He handed the note off to a faceless assistant.

Having recieved the newest DVD, Sherlock and John watched in horror. Leigha was in a poor state, they both thought. Not many tears this time spoke volumes of how far Moriarty had pushed her. Sherlock had still heard nothing. Even knowing Moriarty as he did, was no help. It was as if they had both fallen off the earth. A couple of days later the doorbell rang, John looked at his watch. 11 at night and they weren't expecting client, as Sherlock m ade it clear on his website he was not taking any right now. Sherlock and John just looked at each other, John remarked that it was too soon to be expecting another DVD. "The bell only rung once." Sherlock stated, as if John was supposed to know what he meant. John heaved himself out of his chair and went to answer the door. When he opened the door, he never expected to find Leigha standing there. Well, barely standing, John thought. She had herself propped against the metal hand railing to the left of the front door. "Sherlock..." John yelled, "Come quickly and bring my kit."

Sherlock, upon hearing John's distress, leapt up. Grabbing John's bag, he headed down the stairs. He looked at the doorway, dropping John's medical bag. "Leigha..." Sherlock whispered, not believing his eyes. "Sher..." she tried, too hoarse to speak correctly. Moistening her lips she tried again. "Sherlock.", she rasped, trying to smile a relieved smile. She shuffled two steps toward the man she dreamed seeing again, John reached out trying to stop her, noticing she was heavily favoring her left leg. Extending her hand toward Sherlock, her eyes began to roll into the back of her head. Sherlock beat John to grabbing her before she hit the floor face first. "My God, Sherlock, she needs a hospital." John exclaimed. Sherlock lowered himself and Leigha to the floor, cradling her to his body. "Can she be treated here?" he begged, not wanting to be parted from her again. "Sadly, no. I'm sorry. She is barely concious." John said, hurting for his friend and the woman he had become close to. Sherlock nodded, pulling his phone out, calling Mycroft. "I have her, My. But she is in a bad way, she needs a private room, off the books of course. At Bart's." he spoke quickly. Mycroft's answer was just as brief, "On my way, little brother."

3 broken ribs, a broken left leg and ankle, multiple torn ligaments in her shoulds and arms, deep cuts, bruises, contusions, raped with several severe vaginal tears. The list was long and painful, Sherlock thought. He needed to know what Moriarty put her through so that he could pay the madman back in kind. "How long will she be in a drug induced coma, John?" he asked, after John did a run down of all Leigha's injuries. The doctors figured that it would come a little easier if it came from a friend and not a person who was not involved. "At least a month, all the breaks had not been properly set, so they had to be rebroken to be set right." John explained. "Right." Sherlock started, staring through the window inn the door at Leigha, "Time to go after Moriarty since we have her back and she is out of harm's way." John looked at Sherlock, "Are you sure about this?". Still looking at Leigha, Sherlock nodded. John followed Sherlock's line of sight, "Right." As a doctor, John had seen some bad things, but this lack of concern for a fellow human being he would never understand, and it could not be allowed to happen again.

Sherlock began taking cases again, while Leigha healed under an anonymous name at St. Bart's. He had stopped taking cases while searching for Leigha. He recovered the Falls of Reichenbach painting, saved a banker who had been kidnapped and help capture Interpol's number one most wanted man. And nothing, not a peep from Moriarty. Until the madman decided to break into the Tower of London, while dressed like a tourist, and donning he crown jewels. He also simultaneously broke into the Bank of England and Pentonville Prison. All at the push of a button on his phone. Moriarty let himself be taken in by New Scotland Yard officials.

Being called to be an expert witness at Moriarty's trial was ridiculous. Sherlock would rather be wrapping his hands around the man's throat and choking the life out of him. The doctors and John were talking about bringing Leigha out of her coma. She was healing well enough but there would need to be some physical therapy. Of course, being an expert witness didn't work out quite that well for Sherlock, he ended up in jail for contempt. After John bailed him out, Sherlock figured out why Moriarty was able to be caught in the first place. Moriarty wanted to be caught, it was some how apart of his plan. The fools on the jury found Moriarty not guility, John told Sherlock, warning him that Moriarty would be after them all now. Moriarty broke into the Baker Street flat, Sherlock knew he would. After having some tea and some back and forth taunting, the madman let Sherlock know that his time was coming. Moriarty called it their final problem.

A few days later, the doctors pulled Leigha from her coma. Sherlock and John were beside her bed when she awoke. Her eyes first focused on John, who smiled kindly at her. She closed them and then focused them on Sherlock. She cleared her throat, "I had the worst dream..." she started telling the boys, her eyes drifting closed again. John thought she had checked out on them, when her eyes reopened. She looked athere surroundings and then tried to look at what she could see of her body. "So, it wasn't a dream." she said, as she began crying as what had happened to her sank in. Sherlock and John just held her hands while she cried. Once she wore herself out and drifted off to a restless slumber, Sherlock left to find her doctor. He asked how much longer Leigha would have to be in here. "Well, officially she isn't here, Mr. Holmes. As per your brother's orders." the doctor said, "But to answer your question at least two weeks more, at least, for physical therapy. We plan to have her try and walk some, with assistance, of course." Sherlock nodded, "Well, can she be released and allowed to come back for the therapy?" The doctor was hesitant but said that since she was healing well that it could be a possibility. But they needed to wait and see how she did being awake, that there was bound to be some PTSD issues associated with the trauma of her attack.

Sherlock thanked the doctor, and returned to Leigha's room. John stood as he entered, "I'm going to pop out for a bit." he said as he walked out the door. Sherlock settled himself in the chair next to her bed, waiting. He knew she would either have questions, accuse him of failure or both. He knew that he could never ask for her forgiveness. Looking down at his hands, he knew that it would be too much. He looked up to see her golden eyes, staring at him. There was no blame, only sadness. "You should be resting." Sherlock said to her. "We need to talk." she responded. "Yes, obviously." he said back, lacking for something better to say. She took his hands, marveling at the strength in them. "I don't blame you, Sherlock." she said, "Moriarty, to me, is a chameleon. He can be what he needs to be, when he needs to be." Sherlock could not argue with her logic. "We will get through this and we will get past this, Sherlock." she said, determination entering her tone to show that there was no arguement to be had. As if this was nothing more than a hump in the road, or maybe more like a flat tire slowing them down, Sherlock thought. But she was right, they would get through this together.

Leigha progressed better than the doctor's could ever imagined, alllowing her to leave in John's care. John suggested gently to her that she may, at some point, want to talk to someone. A professional. She agreed that she would when she was ready. Arriving at the flat on Baker Street, Sherlock helped her up the stairs, after she got to meet Mrs. Hudson. Leigha thought the landlady was such a lovely lady. Once they had made it the stairs, John asked Leigha if she would like something to eat or drink. "I'm a little tired." she said refusing both. Sherlock tucked her into his bed, leaving her to rest. Leigha inhaled Sherlock's scent, his entire bed was saturated in his unique scent. She reveled in it. The new part of Leigha would tucked the scent anyway, she would recognize him anywhere now. The serum Moriarty had pumped into her system had heightened all of her senses. Made her smarter and faster. All she had to do was bide her time and revenge would be hers. The new Leigha decided that she would begin with Irene Adler, she just needed to figure out how. Once her physical therapy was done, she would be strong enough to what needed to be done. And hopefully no one tried to stop her, God help them if they did.

While Leigha was going through her therapy, Sherlock had began working a kidnapping case of two young children. Solving the case and finding the children, was the catalyst to their world beginning to crumble around them, Sherlock thought. Sherlock realized that Moariarty was behind it, especially when three windows in a building across from New Scotland Yard were lit up with letters IOU spray painted across them. Leaving NSY, Sherlock grabbed the first cab he could, telling John to catch the next one, that he needed to think alone. The TV in the cab flashed to life. Sherlock asked the cabbie to turn it off, Moriarty's facce flashed across the screen. Sherlock fell silent as Moriarty came in clear and began telling a story. While Donovan and Anderson told Lestrade that they felt Sherlock was involved in the children's kidnapping, the lies began hidden in a little bit of truth. When the message ended, Sherlock screamed for the cabbie to pull over. When Sherlock jumped from the cab and confronted the cabbie, demanding to know how the TV had been changed, the cabbie turned out to be none other than Moriarty. The madmanpulledaway before Sherlock could question him further.

When Sherlock arrived home, John informed him, that four assassins had moved onto Baker Street. "Four assassins? There must be something they want, if not we would be dead already." Sherlock responded. All of Moriarty's pieces were starting to fall into place to ruin Sherlock, even the one huge surprise that the consulting detective would not see coming. Leigha came in, awoken by the amount of noise Lestrade was making. "What's going on?" she asked, starting forward toward Sherlock, who was being handcuffed by Lestrade. John pulled her back. Sherlock arrested, she thought, impossible. As Lestrade passed by with Sherlock, he murmured his apology to Leigha, while John hissed at him that Sherlock was innocent. Outside, Sherlock devised a brilliant escape plan to ensure that he became what Moriarty wanted him to become...a fugitive. Taking John hostage, after John was arrested for punching the Chief Superintendent, they ran. While on the run, John and Sherlock noticed an article in The Sun, while hiding in a doorway as the police searched for them. Scanning the article quickly, Sherlock knew they would need to visit the report that had written it and find out who this Rich Brook was exactly.

"Now what?" Mrs. Hudson asked Leigha, who was sitting calmly on the couch. "Now we wait, Mrs. Hudson." Leigha responded, just as cryptically as Sherlock would have. When Sherlock had gathered all the information her could, he went to Molly Hooper asking for her help. Molly agreed. John went to Mycroft with the papers that he had taken from the reporter and the fake Mr. Richard Brook, who was actually Moriarty. Mycroft laid his sins bare to John under John's harsh stare. As John left, Mycroft apologized and asked that John let Sherlock know how sorry he was. Too little, too late, John thought. Never did John think that Mycroft would do what he had done. Giving the madman Sherlock's background and past details just to get the answers as to where the computer key was hidden.

Sherlock's plan laid out, he texted Moriarty. **Come and play. Bart's hospital rooftop. SH. PS. Got something of yours you might want back.** John had returned and was exhausted. Sherlock waited. John's phone rang, waking him from his uncomfortable nap at the lab desk. "Hello?" John said, "Leigha, slow down, what? Ok, jesus, alright. I'm on my way." Sherlock perked up at the mention of Leigha's name. When John hung up, Sherlock asked what was going on. "Mrs. Hudson has been shot, she's dying, Sherlock." John spoke. "Go, John." Sherlock said. John started to argue with Sherlock, but quickly decided not to. It would be easier to do what needed to be done if John was occupied else where. As John left the lab, Sherlock's phone went off. **I'm waiting...JM**. Showtime, thought Sherlock.

Sherlock walked out onto the rooftop of St. Bart's, locking eyes onto the hateful man. Who was currently sitting on the edge of the building listening to music. "Well, here we are Sherlock. You and Me and our problem. The final problem." Moriarty said, as he began ranting about having to return to playing with the ordinary people and about how ordinary Sherlock was as well. Sherlock waited patiently for Moriarty to run out of steam. Their continued back and forth was beginning to grate on Sherlock's nerves. "The final act is upon us Sherlock." Moriarty said, "I'm glad you have chosen a tall building." John rushed in to Baker Street only to find Mrs. Hudson and Leighastanding in the hallway with a handyman. Both women looked surprised to see John there. "Oh John, has Sherlock sorted everything out with the police?" Mrs. Hudson asked. Realization dawned on John. He had been played, it hadn't been Leigha on the other end of the phone. Grabbing Leigha's hand he said, "We have to go...Now!" Nodding, she asked, "Sherlock?" John said simply yes. Dragging her behind him, John rushed out onto the sidewalk and into the street, flagging down the first taxi he sees. Telling the cabbie to hurry to St. Bart's, John explains everything that he can to Leigha.

Back on the rooftop, Moriarty was telling Sherlock to just kill himself, that it would be so much easier on everyone. Sherlock grabbed Moriarty acting like he was about to shove him over the edge. "You're insane." Sherlock stated. "Oh, you're just getting that now?" Moriarty asked acting innocently surprised. Sherlock released Moriarty, "Okay, let me give you a little more incentive Sherlock. Your friends and love will die if you don't." he said cheerfully. "John? Leigha?" Sherlock asked. "Not just them." Moriarty responded, "But everyone." Moriarty smiled once more, "Four bullets, four gunmen, four victims. There is no stopping them now. Unless my people see you jump." Moriarty straightened his jacket lapels. "You can do whatever you like to me but nothing is going to stop them from pulling the trigger, your only four friends in the world are going to die unless..." Moriarty prodded. "Unless I kill myself to complete your story." Sherlock finished. Moriarty nodded, "Yes, Now you get it." Sherlock thought for a moment, hesitating. "Go on, off you pop." Moriarty pushed, "I told you how this ends, Sherlock." Sherlock climbed onto the edge of the building, looking down at the long drop. "I won't call them off." Moriarty said, as Sherlock hesitated again. "A moment of privacy, please." Sherlock asked. Moriarty began walking away, giving his defeated foe the moment he asked for. Sherlock, looking down, began replaying the words in his head, and began laughing. "What?" Moriarty yelled, spinning around. "So there is a way to call them off. A keyword, a code, a number. And as long as I have you, it can be called off." Sherlock said confidently, hopping down off the ledge. Moriarty stared down Sherlock before offering him his hand. "You are just like me." Moriarty whispered, "Thank you, bless you, Sherlock Holmes. So long as I am alive you can save your friends. Well, good luck with that." Pulling a gun out, Moriarty blew his brains out making Sherlock jump back in surprise. What to do, Sherlock thought, knowing the gunmen were still set up to kill everyone.

John and Leigha rushing to St. Bart's, Mrs. Hudson alone in the flat, Lestrade at NSY finishing up a phone call. The only avenue left was to carry on. Death. His death or theirs. Easy enough choice, Sherlock thought, climbing back onto the ledge. At that moment the taxi carrying John and Leigha pulled up. Jumping out, John paid the man. His phone began to ring. "Hello?" John said. "John" said Sherlock. "Sherlock, you okay?" John asked, cutting him off before he could say anything more. John and Leigha were hurrying towards the doors of the hospital. Sherlock commanded John and her to turn around and go back the way they came. John argued, asking why. Sherlock could clearly see the confusion on their faces. "Just do what I ask, John, please." he said. John became worried, pulling Leigha to a stop and turning them back around. "Where?" John asked. "Stop there." Sherlock said. John halted suddenly, with Leigha almost running into John. Stumbling, she rolled her eyes at John nd Sherlock's silliness, when she noticed a black figure standing at the top of the building. "Oh. my. God." she whispered, recognizing it instantly as Sherlock. "Sherlock?" John asked. Sherlock instructed John to look up. "Oh God." John started. Sherlock began apologizing to John and Leigha, explaining how everything was true. Everything that had been said and printed. John refused to believe Sherlock, as did Leigha. Sherlock asked John to put him on speaker. "Leigha, I'm sorry, I just can't live with this anymore." Sherlock said. With tears streaming down her face, all she could do was say his name.

Sherlock continued on talking to John about how he had researched John before he had actually met him. "Oh come on, Sherlock, stop it now." John commanded, starting forward with Leigha in tow. "No! Stay exactly where you are." Sherlock shouted, "Don't move, don't come any further." John and Leigha complied. "Keep your eyes fixed on me." Sherlock said. He begged John to do this for him. What, John asked. This call, he explained was his suicide note in a way. "Good bye John. Good bye Leigha." Sherlock said before tossing the phone aside, while John was still trying to talk him out of what he was about to do. "Sherlock!" John and Leigha both screamed. Sherlock looked as if he was about to dive into, stepping peacefully off the edge. John and Leigha both stood there, unbelieveing of what they were seeing. Sherlock falling to his death. They heard Sherlock's body hit the ground, Leigha buried her face into John's shoulder. Taking a deep breath, she pulled back.

They began rushing forward when two young men on bikes knocked them down. John and Leigha hit the ground hard. Winded, they both struggled to rise, they had to get to Sherlock. John, on his feet first, made his way to where Sherlock's body lay. Blood was every where. Leigha stumbled after John. He began pushing his way through the crowd of on lookers and first responders. "I'm a doctor, let me through. He is my friend." John shouted. Leigha shoved her way in behind John, her head still ringing from the fall. John grabbed Sherlock's wrist when he got close enough. No pulse. Sherlock was gone. "No, No, No." John moaned, turning towards Leigha. "He's gone." John stumbled and went down dragging Leigha with him. Nearby first responders grabbed the pair before they hit the ground. Seeing the trickle of blood from her hairlline, they told them that they would need to be seen. Sherlock was being taken away, there was nothing that could be done for him. John was in shock. Seeing and hearing that Sherlock was dead, the assassins left without harm to any of the four.

The funeral was a quiet affair. It was only John, Leigha, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade. Upset, Mrs. Hudson had to walk away, Lestrade following to make sure she was alright. Leaving John and Leigha to say their good-byes privately. "Um, you told me once, " John began, talking to Sherlock's gravestone, "that you weren't a hero. Um, there were times I didn't even think you were human but you were the best man I have ever known and no one will convince me that you told me a lie...there." Leigha took John's hand, seeing how upset he was getting. "Just one more miracle for me, Sherlock, just one, don't...don't be dead." John struggled, torn betweeen walking away and staying. "Would you do that for me...Just stop, just stop it." John said starting to break down. Leigha agreed wholeheartedly with John's sentiments, tears leaking from her own eyes. She stepped forward with John, brushing their hands over Sherlock's stone. John took a deep breath, pulled himself together. As they walked away from the grave, arm in arm, a figure stood some way aways from the scene. Unmoving and unnoticed in the pair's grief. The figure turned, after watching the pair, and walked away.


	2. The Website Part 2

I still can't believe what happened, it still seems like a dream. A long, bad dream. Is there going to be an end to it?

John would meet with Leigha, but only out away from 221 B Baker Street. He would always remark on the fact that she was there alone, like he couldn't believe she was completely sane in staying there. He would constantly ask her if she was alright, so often that she got tired of the constant "I'm fine." mantra she had seemed to develop in dealing with John. "Are you sure?" he would always ask. The last lunch time meeting they had was seven months after Sherlock's death. John actually came to the flat, which surprised Leigha more than anything. She hadn't changed anything, John thought. She was passed out on the couch, with a bottle of Irish whiskey at her elbow. John took the bottle, handing it off to Mrs. Hudson. "How long has this been going on?" he asked, not sure if he really wanted the answer and thinking that this was rather like dealing with Sherlock. John instantly regretted the thought, thinking of Sherlock only made him sad and angry. "Oh, for about two months now John, but then you would know that if you actually came around." Mrs. Hudson sniffed. John stiffened against her words, "You know...You know why I can't." He didn't have time for this, he thought, walking into the kitchen. "What are you doing, John?" Mrs. Hudson hissed at him. John simply filled a pitcher with cold water. Walking back to the couch, he dumped the contents of the pitcher onto Leigha. "Oh..John..." Mrs. Hudson said sadly, while John took two steps back. Leigha came up off the couch swinging and hissing like a half drowned cat. Dragging her wet hair out of her face, Leigha turned a blood shot eye towards John. "Was that really necessary John?" she asked, blowing water and more hair out of her face. "Made you smell a bit better, a little less like a brewery." John retorted. Leigha snorted, not caring one bit if it sounded ladylike or not.

"Why are you here? You never come here." she asked. John walked over to the only other chairs in the room. His and Sherlock's chairs. This was starting to make his chest hurt. Anxiety, he knew the symptoms well. He couldn't imagine what Leigha was going through being here. "Mrs. Hudson phoned me." he said briskly, "She said you weren't working, barely eating, drinking all the time." Shaking her head, "I'm not drinking all the time." she said interrupting him. The pressure in his chest seemed to be getting worse with every breath he took, he thought he was going to burst if he didn't get out. Not thinking, he burst out yelling, "Damn it, Sherlock! You have to take better care of yourself." Leigha jerked back as if John had slapped her. The pair just stared at each other, John blinked realizing what he had just said, turning, he dashed down the stairs and out the door onto the sidewalk. There, he thought, now he could breathe. Leigha followed him moments later, still soaking wet. "You're not the only who lost him, John. We miss him too." she said quietly, referring to Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade as well. He nodded, "I'm sorry, I really am, but I can't be here. It's still too fresh for me." Leigha pulled John next door to the cafe, ordering them both something to drink, she sat down with John. "I only drink to numb the pain, John." she started, "But then it seems to creep up on me, at some point, everyday, 10 and 20 times a day." He knew just how she felt. "You just need to find a better way to deal with it, Leigha." John said. Oh, just like you are doing, she thought.

While Leigha got up to get their drinks, John snagged her phone. Scrolling through her contacts, he came across a contact marked Kensie-ICE. In case of emergency, interesting John thought. He quickly snapped a photo of the number with his phone, placing her phone back where it was before she returned. "I'm going to be working a lot and I hate that you are in that flat alone, Leigha." John said, trying a different tactic. "But I'm not exactly alone, now am I? Mrs. Hudson is just downstairs." Leigha said smiling sadly. "Mrs. Hudson can't watch you all the time. What if you should happen to drink too much and end up with alcohol poisoning?" John retorted. Leigha waved away his concerns, "Greg stops by some." John almost choked on his coffee, "Lestrade?" She nodded, "Seems it is back off again with his wife...The principal, this time, I think." John jerked back, she sounded so much like Sherlock. He couldn't do this, not right now. "I've got to run, I'm going to be late for work. Mrs Hudson knows to take and hide anymore alcohol you buy or already have. I will check in on you as soon as I can." he said standing up. Kissing her on top of her head, he left.

God, how her head hurt. She needed at least a couple of more hours of sleep but that wasn't going to happen now, thanks to John and his rude awakening. He had room to talk, she thought as she climbed the stairs, he wasn't dealing with Sherlock's death either. Looking at the couch that was still wet from where John had dumped the water on her, she knew laying down there wasn't an option. John's room was empty of furniture. Which only left one other place. Shrugging her shoulders, why not. Certainly by now his scent should be gone. Slowly opening the door, she stepped in. The air was slightly stale, nothing too bad yet. Stripping out of her wet clothes, she shrugged on the dry ones she picked up on her way through the living room. Hesitating, she stared at the bed, remembering the night Sherlock had tucked her in after she got out of the hospital. Don't do this, she demanded of herself. Just sleep.

In an unknown part of the world, a phone vibrated in a man's pocket. Pulling the phone out, he saw the e-mail he had been waiting for. About time, he thought. Pulling the website up on his phone, thankful that his "friend" had made it mobile friendly and safe, he saw the unfortunate exchange between John and Leigha. Continuing to watch until she returned, he saw her look at the couch and shake her head. She continued on to the bedroom. Saw her hesitation at climbing into the bed. Saw the suffering in her eyes. How he wished that he could erase it all but there were things that needed to be done before that could happen. Finally, she took a deep breath and laid down. She grabbed one of the spare pillows on the bed and hugged it, for what seemed, dear life, beginning to sob. Heart-wrenching, soul-tearing sobs. Ones that made you feel like if you heard it alone it would tear you apart. She finally wore herself out, sleeping a semi-deep sleep on the tear stained pillow. He had to cut it off or it was going to rip the soul out of him. His "friend" would e-mail him, if anything changed...he hoped.

The days seemed to drag on endlessly, Leigha thought. John was good to his word getting Mrs. Hudson to hide all of her alcohol. It was a huge inconvenience. She tried working, when that petered out, she began pacing. Screw it, she thought, checking her savings account. She was smart enough to figure out how to smuggle it past Mrs. Hudson, she thought, and it shouldn't take her no more than 20 minutes there and back. Quietly walking down the stairs, skirting the steps that creaked, she made it to the front door with no incident. She could hear the sound of Mrs. Hudson's vacuum, and knowing the landlady she had her headphones on while cleaning. Bless that woman, she thought, she slipped out the door. She made it to the store in what seemed like a record time. Buying 2 bottles of what was now her favorite Irish whiskey, she thought of a good hiding place. Placing the extra bottle among Sherlock's clothes would be the perfect place, she thought, no one would think to look there. Sneaking back in, she thought, would probably prove to be harder than getting out. Leigha peeked in through the front door, hearing Mrs. Hudson replacing the vacuum cleaner in its normal spot. Which meant that the landlady was at the back of her flat. Moving just as quickly and silently as she did heading out, Leigha reversed her previous trip. Making it into her flat without any trouble or questions, she stashed the extra bottle while cracking open the first. She saluted the sunset that was streaming through the window before taking a deep hit of the liquor. Burning as it slid down her throat, she sighed. Her thoughts had been starting to drive her crazy. What could have been, what should have been, thoughts of a future that would never happen.

His phone pinged again, frowning, the man clicked the e-mail and opened the site. There she was, Leigha, stumbling around the flat in a pair of mismatched socks. Smiling at her uniqueness, she was wearing a pair of cut off shorts, a black wife-beater, a pink and black sock with neon pink stars and a purple tye-dye sock. He noticed a fine sheen of sweat to her skin. Drunk, he thought, she was drunk...impossible. This wasn't like Leigha, surely she wasn't starting down a path to self-destruction. He watched as she wandered around and messed with stuff on the desk, stumbling here and there. He noticed that she looked around carefully before she pulled out a bottle from behind the couch and drinking deep from it. She didn't bother putting it back, which meant she was pretty well on her way to being smashed. Something about the desk kept pulling her back, he noticed.

She was restless, but at least her mind was quiet and she was feeling no pain. She had no idea why she kept wandering over to the desk, but she did. Moving papers and whatnot around, as she moved a file she uncovered a CD. It was marked in permanent marker Week 2. Too drunk to care or think straight, she popped the CD into the disk drive of her laptop. The auto play kicked in, her back to the laptop while she grabbed the bottle of liquor. She heard that hateful voice, that sometimes haunted her in her dreams. Moriarty. She began sweating and shaking horribly. The bottle slipped from her numb fingers, breaking as it hit the floor. Streaking through the door, she cleared the first set of stairs without ever touching them. She bounced off of the landing wall, losing her balance and tumbling down the rest of the stairs. She barely felt the wrench and the pain in her wrist as she landed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs. She fought to stay conscious, she knew he was there, she could feel his hands reaching for her. "Oh my, Leigha, what happened?" Mrs. Hudson said, the sound of tears in her voice as she came out of her flat. Leigha could only shake in fear. The landlady phoned John, who didn't answer. She then phone for an ambulance, asking them to hurry that her friend had fallen down the stairs and she wasn't sure how seriously injured they were.

Lestrade was just finishing up some work for the night, when he heard the call go out for an ambulance to 221 B Baker Street. Lestrade shot up out of his chair, turned off the light and hurried to Baker Street. Worried, as he parked his car, he rushed into the flat. Leigha was sitting up and resisting the medics while cradling her left wrist. "Oh Greg, thank goodness, someone who can talk some sense into her. I tried calling John but got only his voicemail." Mrs. Hudson said fretfully. Lestrade patted Mrs. Hudson on her shoulder, before kneeling down to look Leigha in the eyes. "What happened?" he asked. He could see that she was still shaking. She could only point to the upstairs flat, where he could faintly hear what sounded like a TV going. He ascended the stairs, only to see that the second week of Leigha's torture was playing on her laptop. Shaking his head, he shut it off and took out the DVD. He could still hear Leigha arguing with the medics and Mrs. Hudson. "I don't need to be seen, I'm fine." she protested. Greg made his way back down the stairs and pulled aside one of the medics, "How bad is it?" He asked. "Well possible broken wrist and a concussion for sure. Also a pretty deep laceration above her left eye, which will need stitches. She's lucky she didn't break her neck to be honest." the medic said, stressing that she would need to be seen to make sure there was nothing else wrong.

"Just patch her up some and I will make sure she goes to be seen tonight." Greg said. The medic agreed, directing his partner to patch Leigha up a bit. When the medics left, Greg helped her into his car, stating that she was going to be seen and not to argue. "Want to talk about what happened and why you smell like a brewery?" he asked. "Not really." she mumbled. "Hey now, no falling asleep on me!" Greg said , raising his voice, making her jump. "I'm not." she reassured him, pouting slightly. "We will talk about it later, then." he said, in a tone that allowed no argument. She fell quiet again, thinking about how her life seemed like shit at the moment. When Greg stopped the car, she realized where she was. Anxiety threatened to consume her. Greg noticed how white Leigha's knuckles were when he looked over at her, she had a death grip on the door handle of his car. "Leigha, breathe, please. You're starting to scare me." Greg said as calmly as he could. She closed her eyes, she pulled in a shaky breath. "I don't want to be here, Greg. Isn't there anywhere else you could take me?" she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. Shaking his head, he pulled her from the car. Keeping her eyes closed, he led her across the way to the ER entrance. Thankfully, the doctor saw to her quickly. Probably thanks to Greg, she thought.

The doctor told them that she had a mild concussion, severe sprain of her wrist, a wrenched shoulder and a deep cut that needed seven stitches. He also advised that she should not be alone tonight with a concussion. Greg assured the doctor that he would be staying and watching over her. After the doctor fixed her up and left, she tried to argue with Greg. "Nonsense. I can watch over you and I'm closer to work. I should have been a better friend to you after what happened to..." Greg said, trailing off. "Don't, please." Leigha started, her head beginning to pound. "Just take me home." Lestrade did just that. Parking, they noticed a cab pulling away. This was not going to be pretty, she and Greg thought. Helping her inside, Greg parked her in John's chair. While John and Leigha had a Mexican standoff of sorts, Greg grabbed up the DVD and hid it. Finally, John broke the silence. "Are you trying to kill yourself, Leigha?" John asked, voice starting to rise. "What in God's name happened?" Greg tried to calm John down, but he was not having any of that. Ignoring John, Leigha got up and went to change into something more comfortable, while Greg explained had happened to John. "What were you thinking, Leigha?" John exploded, when she returned.

"John!" Greg shouted at him. "Right, sorry." John mumbled, "I just see you heading down a destructive path, Leigha. And I don't know how to help you." Sitting down, John and Leigha tried to talk it out. While they were talking, Greg searched the flat, finding and emptying both bottles of liquor. This would be the last time he let his friends down. Sherlock would give him hell if something had happened to Leigha, knowing how much Sherlock had gotten attached to the woman. Coming back in, he heard John bidding them both a good night, promising to come by in the morning to check on Leigha. She offered Lestrade the only bed in the flat, which of course, he turned down stating that the couch was good enough for him. He sat talking with Leigha, filling her in on the current state of his marriage, which was looking more and more like it was going to end up in a divorce. She bid him good night, laying down. Greg checked on her every few hours after she fell asleep. She wasn't sleeping as well as he hoped she would, tossing and turning every time he checked on her.

John had an announcement when he showed up the next morning. "I made a call, Leigha." he stated, after saying hello and checking her stitches and bandages. "Oh?" she responded. Nodding, "Yes, to the ICE listed in your phone...a Kensie?" he said. Choking on her coffee, "You WHAT!" she managed when she finally caught her breath. "Please tell me you are joking? Cause if you don't, I may just strangle you, John." Turning her back on the men, she began to whip up a small breakfast. Cooking usually soothed her, but not this time. What the hell was he thinking, she thought. Placing the food on plates, she set one in front of Greg and slammed the other down in front of John, making him jump. "What the hell were you thinking, John?" she finally asked, shouting at the irritating man. "My sister?" Greg was amazed that the normally soft-spoken Leigha had actually shouted at John, thinking that this must be something serious. He finished up his plate, thanking Leigha. She smiled slightly at Greg before pinning John with a look that could of melted steel. Smirking, Greg said that he would see her later if she didn't mind an overnight guest again, which she said would be great, returning her gaze back to John.

John was very quickly becoming uneasy under her gaze. "Um, Leigha, just hear me out..." he began. She slammed her uninjured hand down on the table, making John jump. "Leigha, neither me nor Greg can be here twenty-four seven to make sure you don't do something rash." John said calmly. Leigha shook her head, "I'm not a child who is need of being babysat, John." He stared pointedly at her bandaged wrist in the sling. "Kensie said she is only staying as long as you need her." John commented, "So get yourself straight and she will be out of your hair." Leigha shook her head again, her overly bubbly, erratic sister. "Leigha, what are you thinking?" he asked, getting worried that she had been to quiet for too long. Finally removing her face from her undamaged hand, she cracked a slightly crazy smile. "Oh, you will see John. My sister Mackensie is kinda like a chihuahua on speed." John's left eyebrow rose, questioning her statement. "A very colorful chihuahua on speed." she said. She asked when her sister was coming in. "Tomorrow, 9 in the morning." John told her. "God help London...and us." she mumbled.

Lestrade took the next morning off to drive John and Leigha to pick up her sister. Leigha had filled Greg in last night on her sister and what had gone down with John after he left. As they entered Heathrow Airport, the men asked what her sister looked like. Chuckling, Leigha shook her head, "You can't miss Kensie..." The men couldn't help but smile and notice, that at least Leigha wasn't moping around anymore. Kensie's flight landed on time, watching as the people filed from the gate, she thought this moment was akin to zero hour. She hadn't seen her sister in about a year, maybe two. At least since the funeral for Kensie's husband, she thought. They had such different lives and stayed so busy. It would be really good to see and spend time with Kensie, Leigha thought. Suddenly a blur of blue and purple ran toward Leigha. "Leigha!" Kensie squealed, a high pitch girly sound that Leigha had never managed to achieve ever in her life. Nearly falling, she hugged her sister back. John and Greg stepped forward to grab them in case the girls went down. Being 8 years younger, Kensie was a little hard to handle sometimes.

But that was what family was about, Leigha thought, the good and the bad, the ups and the downs. She looked at Kensie, John and Lestrade...her family, strange as they all were. Being there for one another, she thought. Kensie was currently sizing up the guys, Leigha figured she should save them. "Kensie, meet John, who you talked with on the phone and Greg Lestrade, who is a DI at New Scotland Yard. John, Greg, my sister Mackensie Adams. She just generally goes by Kensie" Kensie lit up at the mention on John's name, "Nice to finally meet you, John." Kensie also politely shook Lestrade's hand. Shaking her head at the three of them being so formal and stiff, Leigha steered them to grab Kensie's luggage. Only 2 bags plus Kensie's carry on which the men politely carried for her sister, they made it out of the airport relatively fast. Getting into the back of Lestrade's BMW with her sister, leaving the men to ride up front, she asked Kensie, "How have you been sis? How was your flight?". Knowing Kensie like she did, those two questions would keep her sister talking until they reached Baker Street. All Leigha would have to do is nod and occasionally add some input. When they pulled up in front of the flat, Leigha noticed John's face while she was getting out of the car. Priceless, she thought. He was rubbing the bridge of his nose as if he was getting a headache. "Serves you right, calling and tattling on me to my sister." she whispered to him, while Kensie and Lestrade were grabbing the luggage out the trunk. John jerked his head back at what Leigha had just said, "Well...we had to do something..." he trailed off, wincing at the sound of his own voice. "How was I to know..." he continued. "That she talked nonstop?" Leigha interrupted, "All you had to do was ask." Leigha turn and walk inside, intent on grabbing John something for his headache.

Settling John and Lestrade down in the living room, after giving John something for his headache, Leigha went into the kitchen and began fixing some breakfast for them all. Kensie silently slipped in behind her, "Gonna be making some pancakes?" she asked, making Leigha almost jump out of her skin. Laughing, after her heart slowed down, "I think I can see my way to make some." In the living room, the guys were amazed at Leigha's transformation. No longer sullen and bad-tempered, this was the Leigha that John remembered. Leigha asked her sister to give her a hand, turning she raised her voice slightly "Coffee or tea?"she asked John and Lestrade. The guys looked looked at each other, agreeing that either was fine. Lestrade caught John's eye, raising his eyebrow in question. All John could do was shrug. While Leigha whipped up the pancake batter, Kensie poured four cups of coffee. Kensie felt as if she were running on empty, if she was going to be able to keep up with her sister she was going to need the caffeine. She hadn't heard Leigha sing or hum once since she got here, not even in the car and some of her favorite songs had played softly on the car radio. This must be really serious, Kensie thought. The last time she had stopped singing or even humming, was when their dad had passed away. Leigha had been 20, Kensie had been 12. Grabbing her phone and Leigha's speaker nearby, she connected the phone. Good thing they had almost the same taste in music, she thought. As the music keyed up the familiar strains reminding them both of their childhood and parents.

Shaking her head, "Mac..." Leigha warned, pausing the music. "Oh come on Lee-Lee..." Kensie begged, knowing that using the nickname she had gave her sister from the time she could talk would soften Leigha up. "Lee-Lee?" Greg mouthed to John, his eyebrows almost disappearing into his hair. John could only smile over the rim of his coffee cup and shrug again. Sighing but smiling as she did so, Leigha nodded and unpaused the music. The girls began singing in perfect harmony, as if they had practiced together everyday.

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder, you get your fill to eat

but always keep that hunger

May you never take one single breath for granted

God forbid love ever leave you empty-handed

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean

Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens

Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance, I hope you dance

When the song had ended and the last of the food had been plated, the girls looked up at the unexpected applause. Leigha blushed and shook her head at John and Lestrade while Kensie took a very theatrical bow. Sitting down to the meal, Lestrade asked "Ever think about singing professionally, Leigha?" Shaking her head, "No, stage-fright." she responded and left it at that.

Thanking the women for breakfast, John and Lestrade bid them a good day and left for their jobs. Leigha suggested to Kensie that they could do some sight seeing after they cleaned up, if Kensie wasn't too tired. Kensie thought for a moment, "Better to stay awake and wear myself out, to get myself use to the time difference." she said easily. After finishing up the cleaning and getting changed, Leigha and Kensie headed out to do all the tourist-y stuff until their hearts were content. Leigha couldn't help but think of Sherlock saying that he would take her to do this. Shaking her head, she tried to banish the thoughts. Kensie noticed Leigha's melancholy mood several times throughout the day. By 3, both women were starved, while stopping for food Kensie tried talking to Leigha about what John had told her. "I really don't want to talk about what happened or Sherlock, Mac!" Leigha snapped in a tone that brooked no more argument. Kensie knew it would be no use to talk to her if Leigha was calling her Mac. She only called her that when she was angry, annoyed or wanted to annoy Kensie.

Heading back to the flat, Kensie noticed a flyer for an open mic night at a bar. "Why did you lie to Greg, when he asked about you singing professionally?" she asked. "Well, it wasn't exactly a lie Kensie. I could sing covers and to friends and family all day long...but my own songs or something written for me, never. And besides you guys love me, it wouldn't matter to ya'll if I sometimes sounded like crap. Ya'll would still love me" she finished up on a laugh, accent coming out thick from being in her sister's presence. Kensie's brain kicked into overdrive, thinking of how she could prove to Leigha she was good enough to do this professionally. After relaxing for a while, since they had walked almost all of London, or so Leigha felt. She began throwing something together for dinner. Kensie busied herself posting pictures on her social media and letting everyone know she had arrived and was having the time of her life. Quickly switching pages, she researched small video recorders she could hide around the flat. Until they arrived she could use her phone to record her sister singing and post it to social media, then she could show Leigha that she could be a singer. If she got enough likes and followers, that is, Kensie thought. Yeah Leigha would kill her if she found out too soon, but it would be so worth it in the end, she justified to herself.

3 months later...

"I'm going to kill Kensie!" Leigha snarled loudly, pacing the floor. "Please calm down Leigha." John said calmly, "She did it because she just wants to see you happy." Wanting to pull her hair out, she swung her laptop around, almost slinging it into John's lap. "She posted videos of me singing all over social media, John! There's also a bloody page dedicated entirely to me, that she runs!" Leigha screamed, "If someone on my friend's list had not shared it, I may never of seen it." John could only watch as she angrily paced the living room of the flat waiting for her sister to return, thinking that he probably should just text Kensie to steer clear for a bit until she calmed down. But knowing Leigha like he did, she wouldn't calm down anytime soon and her poor sister would be homeless until Leigha did. When Kensie finally came in, she could sense the atmosphere of the flat halfway up the stairs and her fight or flight reflex kicked in...Flight. Turning, Leigha charged the doorway of the flat, "Oh no you don't." she yelled, "What in the hell were you thinking Kensie? Or were you even thinking at all since it doesn't exactly seem to be your strong suit at the moment?" Kensie instantly went on the defensive, "Well if you're not going to do something to save yourself, then I had to at least try." Kensie countered. "Your savings are almost gone. You have nothing to go back to in the States except for Mom. No apartment. Everything you own is in storage back home. If you want to stay here, then you have to get off your ass and do something about it!"

Leigha was taken back by the determination and slight anger in Kensie's voice. Kensie very rarely got angry but when she did it was a sight to behold. Being descended from Irish and Native American ancestors, they were both mainly laid back and slow to anger, but once they did get angry it spreads through them like wildfire. It sometimes would burn out of control. "Okay, alright Kensie. Show me what you have in mind then and what progress has been made so far." Leigha said trying to diffuse the situation, not wanting to fight with Kensie any longer than she had too. She was tired, she didn't want to leave this wonderful place. She didn't want to have to crawl back home after everything that had happened, it seemed like giving up to her. Kensie proceeded to show her and John the views, how many times the videos had been shared, how many times they had been added to favorites and of course, the comments. A few of the comments were obviously from internet trolls who had nothing better to do with their lives but the majority were pure positive. Even the page dedicated solely to her singing had nothing but great comments. "Okay, so now what?" Leigha asked as patiently as she could. John and Kensie exchanged a look that screamed that they were very nervous and slightly scared of how she was going to take the next part. "Well, that's the thing we need to talk to you about." John started, trailing off when Leigha raised an eyebrow in question.

They explained that there was restaurant/bar that was looking for a singer. The place already had a band, and that the owner wanted Leigha to be the singer. John and Kensie explained that the owner had seen some of Leigha's videos and had contacted Kensie through her page. Leigha was very quickly beginning to panic. Actually singing in front of people, she didn't know if she could do that. John could see the fear and panic in Leigha's eyes. "The owner said that you could start slow, a day or two a week. Just to see how well it goes over with the customers and how you do, of course." he said, trying to calm her obvious anxiety. Leigha took a deep breath trying to calm herself. The owner wanted to meet with Leigha and let her get a feel for where she would be performing. Par for the course, she thought exiting the cab following John and Kensie inside the currently closed restaurant. The place was absolutely gorgeous with its large room and the tones of dark and light wood mixed beautifully. It was very spacious which should lend wonderfully to the acoustics, she thought smiling. The owner popped out of the back, greeting the trio loudly. His name was Byron and he was an absolute joy, Leigha thought taking an instant liking to the older gentleman. Straight-forward and full of life, he cut a very trim figure as excellently dressed as he was for midday. Byron had a great sense of humor and and even quicker wit. He showed Leigha where she would be when she sang, it had a clear view to the entrance and the bar. She knew that all eyes would be on her.

"So...what kind of music were you wanting me to sing?" she asked, out of her own curiosity. "My dear, anything you want to sing, so long as you keep them entertained and buying food and drink." Byron responded, barking out a loud belly laugh at the look on her face. Leigha laughed along with him, thinking that this just might work and it would obviously be loads of fun. "Leigha, why don't you give the stage a try and check the acoustics." Kensie suggested. "Good idea." Leigha responded, "But there's no band or speakers and you know I don't sing Acapella." Kensie laughed and shook her head, "No problem, I have it covered!" Pulling out Leigha's excellent wireless speaker, she handed it over. Leave it to Kensie, she thought shaking her head, always borrowing her stuff and forgetting to return it when she was done. But for once it worked out in their favor. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she powered up her Bluetooth and began connecting the speaker. While she was skimming through her playlist a flash of light caught her eye as Greg climbed out of his car. Raising an eyebrow in John's direction, silently asking the question to why Greg was here. "I told him that you might need a hand..." John mumbled, the words trailing off. Byron shook hands with the detective inspector as he let him in. "Perfect timing, Greg." Leigha smiled. She took her time placing them in each section of the restaurant, ensuring that she could test for sound quality and to see how much she would have to push herself to project. "Give me a thumbs up if it sounds good. Raise your hand if I need to project more, if it doesn't." she instructed.

She turned to key up the song she selected. As the sounds of "God Bless The Child" began to fill the space, Leigha cleared her throat and began to sing.

Them that's got shall get

Them that's not shall lose

So the Bible said and it still is news

Mama may have, Papa may have

But God bless the child that's got his own

That's got his own

Yes, the strong gets more

While the weak ones fade

Empty pockets don't ever make the grade

Mama may have, Papa may have

But God bless the child that's got his own

That's got his own

Thumbs up across the board. Byron's jaw hit the floor with how Leigha sounded without a microphone. He wondered how she would sound with it. Leigha grinned, pleased with the way the acoustics sounded. Between herself and Byron, they decided to start off with her performing a couple of nights a week, just to see how it went over.

The group decided to grab some dinner once they had hashed out all the details, since they were out. John had someone that he wanted them all to meet. "I really want you all to like her, especially you Leigha." John said making her stop dead in her tracks. "Her?" Leigha asked cautiously. John nodded, "Yes, she is going to meet us for dinner. She can't wait to meet all of you." The group continued on to Lestrade's car leaving Leigha standing on the sidewalk in a slight stupor. Shaking herself out of her temporary shock, she started after the group. Just as she started to take a step someone stepped in front of her, halting her progress completely. "It's your fault he's gone." the strange woman hissed at her. Leigha looked over the woman, taking in her expensive clothing and fur coat. "Excuse me?" Leigha asked honestly confused. The woman's manicured hand lashed out quickly, grabbing Leigha's upper arm tightly. "Sherlock, you stupid little American twit." the strange woman snarled, sinking her nails into Leigha's arm. Leigha's body jerked hearing Sherlock's name tumbling off of the woman's lips. "If it wasn't for you, that stupid little man, the incompetent cop and that old woman, Sherlock would still be here and be alive." Leigha winced as she snatched her arm away from the woman, "I beg your pardon, but who the hell are you!" The woman laughed darkly, throwing her head back, the hood falling away from her face. "Oh, my dear, I was the only woman for Sherlock." Leigha gasped as a memory flitted through her mind. This was the woman with Sherlock in the video. Her other half supplied the name..."Irene Adler." Leigha said softly.

Irene peered at her, hearing Leigha mumble her name. "Oh, so he told you about me then?" Irene asked snidely. Leigha went to sidestep around the damn woman, "Actually no, never mentioned you once." she shot back. Hissing in anger, Irene made another grab at Leigha's arm. Moving almost impossibly fast, Leigha caught her hand. "Touch me again and you WILL regret it." Leigha said, the anger in her voice a living thing, tossing Irene's hand away from her as if it was diseased. "Oh you will be hearing from me again dear. You need to be taught some respect." Irene snapped back as Leigha walked away. "I would like to see you try." Leigh said, tossing the retort over her shoulder. John and Lestrade, having realized that Leigha was not with them, started toward the women when Leigha began moving away. "Everything alright, Leigha?" Lestrade asked, seeing her rubbing her arm. "Uh, yeah. Everything's fine Greg." she responded, schooling her features so as to not give anything away. John stood gazing at the strange woman until she disappeared into the crowd on the sidewalk, thinking about how somehow she seemed familiar. If only he could put his finger on it. Leigha went through the motions at dinner, Mary Morstan was absolutely a lovely woman. So perfect for John, Leigha thought. She let the others carry on the conversation around her while she replayed the run in with that damned Adler woman. That back biting bitch had her hands on your man, Leigha's scary half whispered in her head. She was slightly afraid of that voice but mostly she felt empowered by it. Back home she would have never of had the nerve to stand up to that type of woman, this new part of her made her feel slightly invincible. Greg noticed how distracted Leigha had become, leaning over to her and speaking in a low voice he asked, "Are you sure you are alright? You seem shaken up." Leigha shook her head, clearing the thoughts and plans about that irritating woman from her mind to look at later, "I'm fine Greg. Just tired, big things happened today." she said, smiling her normal bright smile.

1 year, 11 Months and 27 days later...

His phone pinged with yet another update. Leigha's sister had posted another video on the site she had set up dedicated to Leigha and her singing. The man saw that her following had grown even larger. He took a moment to watch the newest videos, taking note that she very rarely, if ever, sang about love or did covers of love songs. He was almost finished with his work and when he was, he planned to change her feelings on that subject. He read all of the comments from men far and wide, professing their love and ridiculous marriage proposals. Her sister, the admin of the page, gently and professionally let all the hopefuls down by stating that Leigha wasn't looking for a relationship at the time but was busy concentrating on her craft. He was going to be the one to change that, he thought again. Leigha was his and his alone, growling softly in the back of his throat at the thought of her being with someone else. His "friend" assured him that she was indeed not seeing anyone, nor had bothered looking twice at any man. Putting his phone away, the man got back to the task at hand, thinking about how the sooner this mess was taken care of, the sooner he could claim what was his...Leigha. She was always in the back of his mind, like a song stuck stuck in his head, on repeat. His phone vibrated a second time, fishing it out he saw that it was an e-mail from his "friend". Clicking the usual link, video pulled up of Leigha at the flat. It was filled with women. Turning his phone sideways, a chat screen was accessed making the live video smaller. Who is there...? The response was instant. L.J., K.A., M.H., M.M, and occasionally landlady. The man didn't think the flat could handle that must estrogen at one time.

Minimizing the chat screen when he had the information that he needed, he returned to the video. It seemed to him that they were having a girl's night in instead of out. Plugging in his headphones, he found a spot where he wouldn't be seen or bothered. Turning up the volume, he heard them talking. The usual prattle you get when you put that many women in the same room together it seemed. The one Leigha called Mary was begging for her to sing. Leigha begged off by siting that she was already compiling some songs to do, not only for the website but also for the bar. Leigha distracted the women smartly by pointing out that she would need their help shopping for some new clothes to perform in. They went wild over the prospect of a girl's shopping trip. Soon he would see Leigha perform in person, he thought as he disconnected from the site after bidding his "friend" goodbye.

Two years, Leigha thought, two years since Sherlock's death. She prepped her bag with the stuff that she would need for working at the bar tonight. Byron had done away with some of the tables so people could dance and he had built her a dressing room. He was making a killing, mainly thanks to her, she thought. Some excellent food, great drinks at a fully stocked bar and dancing, he was getting customers from far and wide making reservations. Being it was a big but somber night for the group, everyone would be at the restaurant. The lot of them, even Molly and Mrs. Hudson, who was going to stop in for a bit. Kensie had decided that she much preferred living in London than going back home. John and Mary would be meeting them there, Leigha thought smiling, knowing what John had planned for tonight. Greg and Molly would be stopping by to pick her and Kensie up in about an hour. Making sure the playlist for tonight was in her bag, so the band would know what songs they were going to do, she and Kensie went to drop their bags by the door. She had the feeling tonight was going to be a night to end all nights.

London, home at last, he thought as he stood on a tall rooftop overlooking the home, sights and smells he had been missing. Right, he thought, first things first...a drink as he left the rooftop. Flagging down a cab, he gave the cabbie the name of the bar the group was at. He wondered how they were going to take the news, certainly they would be overjoyed and surprised. He had fallen somewhat back into his old ways since he had been gone. Arriving to the restaurant, he climbed out of the cab, amazed by the amount of people who were stopping to listen to Leigha sing. It was easy enough to hear her through the windows of the bar. Sherlock detested the hoodie he was wearing, that he had asked Mycroft for, but thankfully the hood was deep and hid his face well. Pulling it lower, he surveyed the inside of the restaurant. He could see that there were a few empty places at the bar...perfect, he thought. Making his way in, he wove his way through the crowd, snagging a few more items to make his disguise complete. Once he had everything he needed, he removed the hood. He noticed that John and the others were to his right but far enough away that he would not be noticed yet. Leigha accepted the round of applause and telling the crowd that they were taking a brief break, before making her way to the group. Sherlock ordered two drinks from the bartender, both Jack on the rocks, asking that the second one be delivered to Leigha from a fan. Never really looking at him, the waitress took the drink to her.

He watched as Leigha paled and asked the waitress what seemed like 20 questions. The waitress answered her, stating that the person who ordered it never touched it, that she got it straight from the bartender. Sherlock watched as Leigha took a deep steadying breath before she looked over to where the waitress was pointing him out. Lifting his glass to her in a silent toast, he turned just enough to still see her but not seem to be over interested, he saw her give him an almost sincere smile. So far so good, he thought. He watched as she took a sip and closed her eyes relishing the drink, no doubt thinking about the last time she had drank that particular brand. John's disapproval could be seen clearly written across his face from across the bar. Interesting, Sherlock thought, that John had his arm around the Mary woman. He watched the group talking and laugh, noticing that Greg was excusing himself, no doubt heading outside to smoke. Following a few step behind, he waited until Lestrade stopped to light up the cigarette. "Those things are going to kill you one day." Sherlock said in a loud, clear voice. Greg froze as the voice filtered through. Slowly turning, Lestrade faced Sherlock, stunned at what he was seeing. "Oh...You ass..." Lestrade grumbled as he grabbed Sherlock up into a bear hug. Sherlock finally got Greg calmed down and ask that he not say anything just yet to the others. "Well, of course I won't, bloody well think I was off my rocker wouldn't they." Greg agreed.

Heading back in separately, Sherlock resumed his seat at the bar watching the group from the corner of his eye. Leigha had finished the drink he had sent her and was sipping from a glass of water before she resumed her place on the stage. He watched the silent exchange between John and Leigha, something was up, he thought. Leigha walked to the back and picked up an over the ear mic, sliding it over her ear before nodding slightly to John. Obviously that was the subtle signal for whatever was going to happen and that she was ready. Sherlock watched as John turned to Mary, "Uh...um, Mary. I have a question for you..." he stumbled over the words he so desperately want to come out right. Mary turned towards John, smiling a knowing smile...She knew, Leigha thought, how was that possible? They hid the plan so well she thought. "I know it hasn't been long, us knowing each other, but would you do me the honor of marrying me?" John finally managed to choke out. Mary's smile bloomed so large that a spot light would be considered dim compared to it. "Yes, John, yes." She laughed, holding out her hand to John. As John took the ring out of the velvet box to slip on her finger, Leigha signaled the band to begin playing. Mary looked up from the ring to Leigha as she made her way over to the happy couple. Sherlock was in slight shock, John getting married? "Congratulations to the both of you." Leigha said hugging them both. "I dedicate this song to you two." The band restarted the chords from the beginning, playing the familiar strains of "At Last" by Etta James. Standing at the groups table, she began singing.

At last

My love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song

Oh yeah yeah

At last

The skies above are blue

My heart was wrapped up in clover

The night I looked at you

I found a dream, that I could speak to

A dream that I can call my own

I found a thrill to press my check to

A thrill that I have never known

Oh yeah yeah

You smile, you smile

Oh and then the spell was cast

And here we are in heaven

For you are mine...

At last.

Mary jumped up to hug Leigha a second time. "The two of you had this planned, didn't you?" Mary asked with a mischievous smile adorning her pixie-like face.

"We aim to please." Leigha said hugging her friend back. Byron had some champagne, on the house, taken to the newly engaged couple. Leigha returned to the stage to finish her last set for the night. Contemplating singing a song to commemorate the day of loss as well, she brushed the thought aside as she saw the happy faces of her sister and friends. No, she thought, her family. Sherlock watched as Leigha worked the crowd, she was exceptional at it, he thought. He sat sipping his second drink until the bartender announced last call. He was getting nervous about letting the group know he was alive and well. Leigha came out from the back of the house dressed in her street clothes, the door close to where Sherlock had stationed himself. She passed close enough to him that he could smell her scent, which was her all over...fresh linen, sunshine, and her favorite perfume sprayed lightly. He watched as the patrons began clearing out, paying for their drinks and meals or having a quick word with Leigha. She always took the time to speak with each person who approached her, but he noticed that John and Lestrade kept a close eye on each person that did.

The restaurant was almost completely emptied, time to find a place to wait, Sherlock thought. He blended into a group of the last few customers, so he could slip by John and the others who had began moving towards the door. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Leigha slipped away from the group saying she would catch up. He slipped around back as soon as he could intent on picking the back door lock, better to start with Leigha, he thought. Not knowing how she would react or if she would react as well as Lestrade had, he really didn't want to do this at her place of work. Cursing herself for almost forgetting her and Kensie's bags, she made her way back to her dressing room and slipped inside. She grabbed the bags and started back out, when her phone went off with a text message. Figuring that it was her almost always impatient sister, she puled it out and swiped her thumb across the screen. The text was from a number she didn't recognize. I have information that will destroy your friends. If you want it and don't want it made public, meet me alone at the following address. IA. "That damned woman..." Leigha growled, wondering how that wretched woman got her cell number. How? And how do I know that I can trust you? LJ. Leigha sank into the chair at her dressing table, trying to figure out what Adler's game was. Irene's response was quick, You're a smart girl, figure out a way. You just will have to trust me, won't you? IA. Thinking quickly, she switched on the GPS locator in her phone's menu, so that if she disappeared she could at least be traced that way. But slipping away from John and the others was going to be a little harder, she thought.

She had only moments before one of the group would come to see what was taking her so long. Standing, she dug through the her bag at her feet. Finding what she was looking for, she had borrowed John's gun. Slipping it into the waistband of her jeans at the small of her back, so it would be less noticeable. Just in case, she thought, not that she could really trust that Adler woman. She walked quickly to the back door of the restaurant, intent on ending this craziness with the damned woman. Getting angrier by the second, she grabbed the doorknob, flinging the door open forcefully. The door bounced off the brick wall, almost smacking Sherlock before he could completely move into the shadows before she saw him. He could feel the anger radiating off of Leigha. He watched as she stopped a few feet away from him, checking her phone and cursing under her breath as she inputted what seemed to be an address into her GPS. He wondered where she was going and alone. He hesitated between following her and alerting the others that she had gone, but by alerting the others would reveal him much too soon and take way too long with questions. Making the decision to follow her, he let her get a bit ahead of him, so that she wouldn't noticed that she was being followed. Keeping her in sight, he found that they were heading into an abandoned building. It looked as if at one time it had been a brewery, judging by the debris scattered around. He wondered who she would be meeting in a place like this.

Sherlock slipped from shadow to shadow, always keeping his eyes on Leigha and their surroundings. He watched as she stopped at the foot of a staircase to pull something out of the waistband of her jeans. Moonlight glinted dull of of what looked to be a gun in Leigha hand. A gun, Sherlock thought, why the bloody hell would she need a gun? She made sure it was fully loaded, a round chambered and the safety was on, she slipped back where she had pulled it from. Better safe than sorry, she thought. Sherlock got a better look at the gun, recognizing it was John's Browning L9A1. He watched as she mounted the stairs carefully and quietly to gain entrance to the building. Giving her at least 5 minutes before he followed and betray his presence to her, he entered the building. Creeping from shadow to shadow, he continued on until he heard voices. Recognizing Irene Adler's voice, his own anger quickly manifested, ratcheting up to unbelievable levels. The last time he was this mad, he thought, was when Mrs. Hudson had been attacked by the Americans. "So good of you to join me and so quickly, see I told you that you were smart and would figure out a way." Irene purred, trying to goad Leigha into doing something rash. Leigha stood silently and acted like she was bored, her face smooth so as to not betray any feelings that she might be feeling. Irene would have to work a lot harder, Leigha thought. "You would think that you just wanted to get this over with Leigha. What no greeting, no small talk? Or didn't your parents raise you properly?" Irene smiled a patronizing smile at her. Trying to goad her into making the first move, Leigha thought, old tactics that would work on a lesser person. Leigha smirked a small smile of her own, "You know Irene, somewhere out there is a tree tirelessly producing oxygen for you to breath and think. I think, no I know, you owe it an apology." Sherlock smiled at Leigha's retort, watching as Irene's smile slipped and anger replaced it.

"You mewling little quim, you and that group of ignorant peasants deserve all you are about to get." Irene snarled, letting her anger get the best of her. "Well personally, i you deserve a high five, in the face, with a chair. So I think that makes us pretty well even on what we think each other deserves, doesn't it?" Leigha responded quickly, examining her nails like she was bored of the whole charade. That seemed to be more than Irene could bear, she rushed Leigha hoping to catch her off guard. Sherlock sent off a quick text to Lestrade summoning him to the address siting that he may need help. He got himself into position to aide Leigha if she needed it or even if she didn't. He knew from experience that Irene could be tricky to beat. The women were making enough noise that he really didn't need to mask his movements much. Leigha slammed Irene to the floor amid the dirt and garbage. "What is it exactly that you want, Irene?" Leigha snarled, "Stop wasting my time. So go ahead and shock me, say something intelligent." Irene screaming her rage at the top of her lungs, scrambling off the dirty floor. She grabbed a broken piece of rebar, swing it at Leigha, hoping to connect. Fed up with the game, Leigha stepped back so that the metal would miss hitting her and pulled out the gun. Pointing the Browning at Irene's head steadily, "I'm done. What is the supposed information you have on us? What is it that you have that will destroy us?" Leigha asked calmly, surprising Sherlock. Irene stopped, seeming to be weighing her options carefully. "There was nothing, you stupid little girl. I just wanted you alone to get rid of you and to pay you back for an injustice on the world, you worthless shit...Just so I could end you." Irene said, chest heaving from her frantic movements moments before. "End me?" Leigha said, before laughing loudly. Taking a few steps forward, never lowering the gun she closed the distance between herself and Irene, Leigha punched her in the face. Hearing the bones in her nose crunch, Irene fell to her knees clutching her face and screaming in pain. "End me?" Leigha repeated, "No, I don't think so. I would only have to make two more moves and end you, you pathetic mewling quim. That's what you called me right? So, let me get this straight...You want to kill me over some imagined slight?" Leigha grabbed Irene by the hair, jerking her head back. "Sherlock...was...mine..." Irene panted, pain etched into her face. "Sherlock was his own person. He was never yours bitch...no one owned him. Get it through your thick head. If I ever have to see your face again, I will put a bullet in it." Leigha said softly and calmly. "I want..." Irene started to scream. "Shit in one hand, want in the other. See which one fills up faster." Leigha said while flipping off the safety on the gun, tired of the whole thing. A black blur caught Leigha's eye as it knocked her away from Irene and to the ground, the gun bouncing away from them.

"You don't want her blood on your hands." The shadow said, the voice making Leigha pay attention and began scrambling backwards. "No, no, no. You're dead. I was there when you died." Leigha whispered, shaking her head and pulling at her hair. This was too much for her, it couldn't be, she thought with tears forming in her eyes. Her other half tried to soothe her and figure out just what was going on. Fearing she had finally lost her mind, she picked herself up and walked around the shadow until she could with her eyes what her mind already knew. She stared at Sherlock's face, taking in everything that she could, completely forgetting about Irene and her stupid grudge. "Well, obviously, I'm not...Surprise?!" he said with a sheepish smile. Irene began clutching at Sherlock's pants leg and coat, trying to bring focus back to her. "Do you see what she did to me?" she cried pathetically. Sherlock stared down his nose at Irene coldly. "Yes, I do see. And you repel me..." he said, shaking Irene off his clothes, he continued. "And feel lucky that I stopped her when I did. I may not be as quick next time." Lestrade entered, taking in the scene. Irene kneeling on the ground, face bruised and bloody with tears making tracks through the grime covering her face. Leigha stared open-mouthed at Sherlock. And Sherlock, standing in the middle as if nothing more was going on but a walk in a flower covered meadow. John followed behind Lestrade by a few steps, not seeing the scene. A glint of metal caught John's eye, picking it up he found his gun. Coming around Greg he started, "Why is my gun...", breaking off at the scene in front of him. Leigha continued to stare at Sherlock, taking in everything from the sharp angles of his handsome face, his lips, even the state of his clothes. Sherlock began to take steps towards her, his hands held out as if she was a skittish foal on the verge of running. She looked down at his hands and took a step back, halting Sherlock's progress towards her. He watched as the many emotions played across her face, one never staying longer than the next and the tears streaking down her face. Her mind finally chose one emotion over the many. "Two years." she began, anger making itself known in her voice and making it low. "You were alive the entire time? Leaving us to grieve? In emotional and physical pain? Sadness eating away at everything, almost everyday...A vital part of ourselves missing...All because? Let me guess, for one of your games or a stupid experiment maybe?!" she ended yelling, her voice echoing off the rafters at a near screech of hysteria. She had started to wrap here arms around her middle as if to hold herself together when her now more dominant half stepped in, pushing her and the pain to the side.

Sherlock watched as her posture and demeanor changed almost instantly. Fascinating, he thought, until she punched him in the face with a mean right hook. Cradling his face and eyes watering, he cried out "Bloody hell!", tasting blood. John and Greg started towards Leigha. Shaking her head, she took one last look at Sherlock, wiped the tears from her eyes and took off at a dead run. Jumping over debris and broken pieces of the ceiling and wall, she was moving fast. John's mind was having trouble taking in everything that was going on, he took a long look at Sherlock before he set off after Leigha. Lestrade stood back, taking in the entire scene before he asked Sherlock if he was alright. Before Sherlock answered he checked to see if Leigha had loosened any of his teeth, he shook his head. "I feel I didn't explain myself very well and I deserved that." he said quietly. Greg chuckled before answering, "You didn't explain at all." Irene began picking herself up, bringing attention back to herself. "What about her?" Lestrade asked. Sherlock blotted the blood from his busted lip before answering, thinking that Leigha had hit him hard enough to almost put his teeth through his lip. He walked over to Irene, surveying the damage Leigha had done to her face. "You will leave and never return. If you do, I can promise that I will not be able to stop a second time. Do you understand?" he asked Irene. Irene looked at Sherlock, "I...repel...you?" she stammered stupidly, as if dazed. Sherlock rolled his eyes and stopped himself from putting his hands on the hateful woman, "Yes, you stupid woman. I was never yours." He said quoting her own words back at her. "I may have at one time been fascinated with you but that quickly wore off when you used me and toyed with me." he snapped, "Get her out of here and out of my sight, Lestrade, please. I need to find Leigha." Leaving Irene to stare after him, he turn and walked away not once looking back.

As he was exiting the building, John was walking back, looking over his shoulder off into the distance. He stopped to check on two women in Lestrade's car that he had seen on video, courtesy of Mycroft. Leigha's sister Kensie and the woman named Mary, that was now John's fiance. John stopped a distance from Sherlock, staring at him hard for a moment. "She had a point, you know." John said, finally breaking the silence between them. "Two years, Sherlock. At anytime, you could of gotten a message or something to us. Anything..." he trailed off, voice breaking. Shaking his head, Sherlock responded, "I couldn't. Any little slip that I was still alive would have jeopardized everything that had been accomplished." John just stared at Sherlock, open-mouthed, "Like I would have told anyone, anything." he ended, almost shouting. Brushing John aside, Sherlock asked, "Where's Leigha?", looking around before turning back to John. John grew angry beyond all belief at Sherlock and his high-handed ways. Launching himself at the man that he thought of as his best friend, John tackled Sherlock and began beating him. Lestrade and the women ran over, pulling John off of Sherlock but not before John bloodied Sherlock's nose and lip further. "Just leave her be, damn it, let her absorb everything that you put her through, you ass." John snapped, shrugging Greg and the women off of him. Sherlock pulled himself up off the ground, while trying to stem the blood pouring from his nose and mouth. "I need to find her, John. I need to explain..." he trailed off, seeing the look on John's face. "You don't need anything. Leigha needs a moment!" John stressed, "In fact, I think I need a moment as well." John had to walk away before he killed the man. He couldn't believe this was happening, well actually being it was Sherlock, he could believe it, John thought. John walked back to Mary as she was speaking to Sherlock, which was never a good thing in his opinion. Telling Lestrade that they would see him later, John flagged down a cab for him and the women. "Let him work it through, Sherlock, he will come around." Mary promised, "And so will Leigha."

A Week and half later...

Kensie sat on the couch watching as Sherlock paced and texted randomly on his phone. According to him, his homeless network had uncovered nothing on her sister. Not that it really surprised Kensie thinking back to when their dad had passed away and Leigha would disappear, not able to handle the people or sadness. Leigha had not returned home once since that night at the brewery. She couldn't wait to get out and look for her sister again, which John, Mary and Greg would be joining them to help hunt her down. Byron said that he would join them if it wasn't for the restaurant he didn't trust anyone else running. Kensie had been trying her sister's phone off and on randomly, hoping that Leigha would maybe answer. And on top of it she had turned off the GPS locator on her phone, making it impossible to track her that way. Kensie was getting more and more worried, it was getting colder and there was snow in the forecast. She rose, casting a glance at Sherlock who had taken up a position staring out the window. Pouring them both another cup of tea, she set one down on the corner of the desk near Sherlock's elbow. Almost everyday since that night, Sherlock would go out looking or both of them would go hoping to come across something. Sherlock had stopped eating, barely slept or talked, and was even scruffier than usual. The waiting was something Kensie couldn't stand, she needed to do something. Standing up she moved next to Sherlock at the window, making Sherlock jump. He had forgotten that Kensie was even in the flat. The once loud and flamboyant whirlwind that was Leigha's sister had become very subdued since her sister had run off. "Anything?" Kensie asked, turning her hazel eyes on Sherlock's blue-green ones. Shaking his head and clearing his throat, "No, not yet. They are still keeping an eye out. I've even broke down and asked my brother for help, which I detest doing."

Turning from the window, Sherlock continued on about his brother ranting about how he would never hear the end of it by asking for help. "Leigha..." Kensie said loudly, shooting away from the window. Sherlock jerked around, pulling the curtain from the window. "Kensie...wait!" Sherlock said, turning back to chase after the blur that was Leigha's sister. He managed to catch Kensie as she threw open the front door. They stood looking across the street at Leigha, whose eyes were wide in shock. Sherlock started out just as Leigha took off running. "Damn it, Leigha, wait!" Sherlock yelled, running after her. "Leigha...!" Kensie yelled, in hot pursuit of the pair. Two streets later, Leigha had managed to lose both Sherlock and Kensie. Cursing, the pair made their way back to Baker Street, sweating but chilled to the bone. Kensie went to change and to continue waiting for the others to show up, maybe today would be the day, she thought. Leigha turning up here had to mean something, she said to Sherlock who was changing as well. "Maybe..." he said trailing off, thinking God only knows what it meant. The minutes flew by turning into what seemed even longer hours of waiting. Sherlock had taken up his position by the window again, not moving much. Kensie figured that he had gone into the mind palace thing that Leigha had explained to her that Sherlock did quite often.

At a quarter to 6, she stood to grab her stuff knowing that John and the others would be here soon. Good, she thought, not knowing if she could sit around any longer doing nothing. Sherlock had finally given up his vigil at the window for sitting in his chair staring off into space. As she entered her room to grab her bag and coat, she heard Sherlock's phone ping with a text message. "Finally!" Sherlock shouted. Kensie rushed into the room, "What? News finally?" she asked, thinking it was too good to be true. "Yes, Mycroft has video of her entering an abandoned house here about 9 kilometers away." he said, throwing off the robe he had put back on upon their return. He stopped at Kensie's puzzled look, "Oh...right." he said, quickly working out the math in his head, "about 5 and half miles from here." Smiling, Kensie shook her head. "Lucky it wasn't further. I use to think that Leigha never got tired of walking when I was younger." As they gathered their coats and cold weather items, John and the others had arrived. Sherlock filled them in on where Leigha currently was located. He also had a plan formulated to get her back to the flat so that the group could sit down and talk, mainly to let Sherlock explain everything. While on their way to St. Bart's to pick up a few items that they would need, Sherlock filled them in on the plan. "Easy enough." Lestrade said quietly. John thought that it was going a bit far in his opinion, which he voiced to no one in particular. He still wasn't speaking to Sherlock. "No, John. It is not going a bit far, in her current state, Leigha can be and is very dangerous. Moriarty warped her into something in which you have never encountered." Sherlock said patiently, ignoring John's mood.

The house was sitting in the middle of a wide open space next to the woods. The group managed to find a path that would bring them through the woods to come up on the backside of the house. Driving Lestrade's car as far as it was safe to go, they left it and began following the path. Using his mind palace, Sherlock lead the group to the location. The snow that had been in the forecast had been falling steadily since midday, had tapered off considerably. Thankfully enough had fallen to mask the sound of the group's approach. Halting them at the edge of the woods, Sherlock looked over the abandoned house. Noting a flickering light in the corner room on the second floor, Sherlock quietly told them to get into positions. Mary and Kensie would be covering the front and back doors, once Sherlock, John and Lestrade were inside. The men quietly entered on the ground floor, skirting around the broken floors and debris. They head up to the second floor where Sherlock had seen the flickering light, thankfully night had fallen completely giving them plenty of shadows to hide in. Sherlock left John and Lestrade on the second floor when it was obvious she wasn't there. Heading up to the third floor of the huge house, Sherlock stepped carefully. It must of once been a beautiful home, he thought but now it was just decay and death if he didn't step carefully. He saw a huge room on the front side of the house. Entering carefully, he saw the room empty except for two chairs, one of which had a set of brand new clothes laid out on it and the other chair contained nothing but a half folded note with his name on it. Glancing around, he picked up the note, which was written in Leigha's handwriting. The note contained two words in her beautiful cursive, I'm sorry. He began to worry that this was not going to end how he wanted it to. Using his mind palace, he pictured the house, noting the high roof. There must be an attic, he thought. Running from the room, he found the access to it, climbing the stairs quickly and carefully. Nothing, empty as he flashed his light around the room. Heading back down to the large room with the chairs, the moon came out from behind some clouds, lighting up the large room. Also highlighting Leigha standing by one of the large windows. "Leigha..." Sherlock said quietly, knowing his voice would carry to the others. "Don't, Sherlock. You should not have come. You know how dangerous I am or at least you should have an idea. I won't let you hurt her again and I won't come easy." her other half spoke. Shaking his head he continued moving forward slowly, "I never meant to hurt her or John. It was a necessary evil..." he started trying to explain. Leigha's body turned towards Sherlock, halting his progress. "A necessary evil...how contradictory. Even for you, Sherlock." she said, the sadness heavy in her voice. He watched as her shoulders slump and she began hugging her middle again. "Worse than telling a lie is spending your whole life staying true to a lie...Robert Brault." she quoted, sounding exhausted. "Just tell me the why, not the how Sherlock." she said backing away from the window, turning her body fully towards Sherlock. "Why don't we go back to Baker Street, have a cup and sit and talk..." Sherlock tried carefully keeping his voice moderate.

"Don't bullshit a bullshitter, Sherlock." Leigha warned, making Sherlock wince at her unusual vulgarity. Sighing, Sherlock resigned himself to explaining the why to her. "Moriarty..." he began, making Leigha wince in return hearing the madman's name. "He would have killed you, John, Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson, if I didn't do what I had. But since I had Molly's, Mycroft's and some of my homeless network's help, I kept the plan going so I could ensure that you all stayed safe by destroying his criminal network." He could her body going rigid at the mention of Molly and Mycroft. "So they knew and how many of your homeless network knew?" she snapped. Not thinking Sherlock answered before he thought better, "Oh about 25 of them." Shaking her head, she looked mad but sad at the same time. "I don't know which one of us is a worse monster, Sherlock. Me, who was made this way or you, who has been this way from birth." she said turning back to face the window. He knew what she was thinking about doing, it was written all over her face. As she began moving, Sherlock made his move, grabbing her before she could throw herself through the window. Screaming in frustration, Leigha struggled in Sherlock's strong grip. His arms were like bands of iron wrapped around her upper body. Keeping one arm tight around her, he ran the fingers of his free hand down the side of her face, whispering to her. "Leigha...stop." he said. She reared forward smashing her head into his already bruised and battered face, making him stumble backwards towards the doorway. Straightening himself, he took note that her posture had reverted to her other personality. "I told you that I would not let you hurt her and that I would not come easy." she reminded Sherlock. She moved quickly, rushing him, her forward momentum taking them both out into the hallway. Crashing into the decaying railing, which crumbled under their combined weight and speed. They hit the second floor landing hard almost directly in front of John and Lestrade, the pair struggled to pull a breath. Sherlock had tried to take the brunt of the impact himself. "You idiot..." she snarled once she got her breath back.

Sherlock quickly took stock and thankfully nothing was broken, just more bruises. Leigha had gained her feet, he could see that she was debating on standing her ground or running. Catching a movement to his left, he saw John moving towards her intent on grabbing her. "John, no!" Sherlock yelled, but it was too late. He struggled to his feet as Leigha engaged John in combat. He heard the telltale puff of the CO2 propelled dart as Lestrade took the first available shot at Leigha. Aim true, Lestrade hit his mark. Hitting her in the back of her left shoulder, throwing off a vicious right hook aimed at John's face. Over correcting, she lost her balance, dragging John with her as he tried to grab her to keep her from falling. Instead they both fell to the first floor. Sherlock rushed down the stairs with Lestrade in pursuit, stopping only to retrieve John's unused tranquilizer gun. Fearing the worst, the pair hit the first floor at a run, skidding to a stop when they found Leigha stumbling to her feet. Amazed that she was even able to still function with enough tranquilizers coursing through her veins to take down a large horse, she acted as if the sedative was nothing. John groaned as her rolled out of arms reach from Leigha. Worried that John was seriously injured, Lestrade quietly and slowly sidestepped to reach John making sure that he did not draw Leigha's attention. Not that he needed to worry, she was too busy glaring daggers at Sherlock.

"I dislike being outnumbered, Sherlock. It makes for too much stupid in the room, don't you think?" she said, her words starting to slur badly. So, the sedative was having some effect on her, Sherlock thought but not enough as she rushed him a second time, throwing punches and trying to kick him through a wall. Lestrade pulled Kensie and Mary back, keeping them from the room, fearing that Leigha would turn her attention to them next. "This is what Armageddon must be like." Lestrade mumbled, as Leigha kick Sherlock through a closed door, ripping it from its hinges. Mary bent down to check on John, who had managed to crawl to them. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Just winded. I need to help Sherlock..." he said, gaining his feet. Lestrade laid John's tranquilizer gun aside, wading in to try and help Sherlock, the movement catching John's eyes. Snatching it up, John watched as Leigha slung Sherlock into Lestrade, both men hitting the floor in a heap. "Flirting's over Sherlock. I've had enough now." she said in a familiar sing'song voice that sent chills down John's spine. Now he understood what Sherlock had been trying to tell him in the car. Moriarty had warped Leigha into a female version of himself, complete with a dash of crazy. As John got into position to take aim on Leigha, Kensie stepped in the way, slightly blocking his shot. "Leigha!" she shouted, "Stop it now...please." The tears in Kensie's voice making Leigha halt and turn her way. "Come home. Let us help you, Leigha" Mary begged, drawing Leigha's attention in another direction by stepping up next to Kensie, keeping Leigha distracted. Leigha shook her head, "I'm better off alone." she said, sadness coloring her words as she looked at the damage she had cause to them and around them, "Alone is what I have. Alone protects me, it protects you...from me." She staggered, obviously still fighting the first sedative dart. "Leigha..." Kensie started, tears now fully evident as they streamed down her face.

"There are monsters, Kens, and it's okay to be afraid of them. But it's not okay to let them win, and it's not okay to be one." Leigha responded to her sister's quiet plea, pulling a gun that had been hidden in the waistband of her jeans. The fact that it had managed to stay on her the entire time amazed Sherlock. John knew he had to take the shot, motioning to Mary, who snatched Kensie out of the way. The dart hit Leigha in the neck making her drop the gun, before she could pull the trigger. She feared that she was a monster, John thought, which he could completely sympathize with her after all he had seen in war and his time with Sherlock. Leigha stumbled back, the two sedative darts pumping through her bloodstream, too much for her to fight. She managed to snatch the dart from her neck, looking at it in disbelief, struggling to stay upright but she couldn't. Loosing the battle to stay conscious, she fell hitting a partial decayed coffee table. One of the more solid piece sheared off, the sharp point tearing through her shirt and skin, cutting both open on her right side. Before making sure if she was even fully sedated, John rushed over, applying pressure to the bleeding wound while Mary rushed to grab the bag she brought with her of medical supplies.

Not able to see much in the gloom, John spoke to Mary as she pulled out what they needed. "Get her patched up enough to move, I will get a better look at it back at Baker Street." he said, worrying more about infection than anything. The group rushed back to the car, Sherlock carrying Leigha refusing to let anyone else. He slid into the back of the car, cradling most of her in his lap. John kept a close eye on her breathing, pulse and worried about the amount of blood that was currently seeping through the makeshift bandage they had thrown on the wound in her side. Digging through Mary's bag, John passed more gauze to Sherlock telling him to press it to what was already there. Making it back to Baker Street in what seemed like record time, Lestrade screeched to a halt in front of the flat. Throwing the car hard into park while John jumped from the car, rounding it to assist Sherlock in getting Leigha out. The noise the group made getting her inside drew Mrs. Hudson from her own flat. "Oh thank goodness, you found her." she said, hand fluttering. Kensie kindly drew her aside, siting that in light of the situation everyone might like a warm cup of tea just to give the poor woman something to do. Mary rushed ahead of Sherlock, shoving the coffee table aside, giving him clear access to the couch so he could lay Leigha down. Sherlock stepped back letting Mary and John take over Leigha's care. The wound was not as bad as John had feared, letting Sherlock know that it would not need stitches. "Pad her wrists and ankles please." Sherlock asked them when they had finished cleaning and covering the wound in her side. Both John and Mary turn a questioning look toward Sherlock. He explained that she would need to be restrained, so that she wouldn't attack them or run before they could help her. "I don't know how long or how deep the sedative will keep her out. She will only be restrained as long as it takes to help her or until she won't attack us anymore." he finished. And hopefully until I can explain everything, he thought to himself. As soon as they were done patching her up, Sherlock moved Leigha to the bedroom, so Kensie and Mary could clean her up some and change her torn and bloodied clothes. He had gotten extra sets of handcuffs from Lestrade before the man left, saying he would only be phone call away if needed. Slipping into the room before the woman began working on getting Leigha cleaned up, Sherlock grabbed some of his own clothes to change into.

After grabbing a quick shower to wash away the blood and muck, Sherlock emerged to find Mrs. Hudson laying out tea for those who were still in the flat. "I'm so happy for Sherlock, but do you think it needed to chain her up like an animal? Hasn't she been through enough?" the land lady asked quietly. Nodding his head while pulling up his shirt to show her the fresh bruises forming and the cuts, "Yes, Mrs. Hudson. For everyone's safety." he said. Shaking her own head, she turn hanging John and Sherlock both cups of tea before returning to her own flat for the night. John sipped his own tea staring hard at Sherlock before asking, "Do you really think you can help Leigha? I mean, it's not like you are a professional or anything." Ignoring his own tea, Sherlock sank into his chair, steepling his fingers and laying them against his busted lips. "I think we are the only ones who can help her John. It would be reckless to let her loose or to invite a professional, as you put in, into the flat to try and help her at this point." he responded, anxious to be done with this all and be with Leigha. He wanted to be there when she finally woke up. He began sipping at his almost cold tea as Kensie and Mary emerged from the bedroom. Kensie looked as if she had been crying, stopping to bid them good night and escaping to the room that had been originally been John's. "You were right, the wound won't need stitches." Mary remarked as she sat on the arm of John's chair, picking up a cup of tea. Taking a few sips of her tea, she stared at the two remaining men on the flat, "So any cuts or possible broken bones that we need to worry about with you two?" she asked with a wicked twinkle in her eyes. Only bruised and felt like they had been run over by a semi, they claimed. "Well, we work 6 to 3 tomorrow, think you will be alright until we can get back here?" John asked, gathering up Mary and their stuff. Waving away their worry at leaving Sherlock alone with Leigha, he assured them that it would be indeed alright, "Yes, yes. We will be fine." Following the couple out into the hallway, he spoke again "Oh and congratulations, by the way." Confusing John for a moment, making Mary laugh. "Of course. You were there, weren't you?" John said, shaking his head knowing that he was. This was Sherlock he was talking to, John thought.

Bidding the couple a good night, Sherlock entered the bedroom where Leigha lay. Double checking the restraints and making sure she was as comfortable as possible, he settled himself into the chair in the corner of the room. The sound of movement woke him. He must of dozed off, he thought, which was unlike him. But then taking the beating he did from Leigha must have taken a lot out of him. He watched as she moved sluggishly, starting to come out from under the sedative they shot her up with. She looked around the room, figuring out exactly where she was, not noticing him. Strange, Sherlock thought. He watched as she caught sight of movement outside the window, her face softening as she realized what it was. "Oh...snow." she whispered, a small smile showing its presence on her face, before she passed back out. He wondered how it was that she took no notice of his presence in the room. Then he realized that he was hidden in the shadows in the corner of the room and not noticeable at all. Only 2 in the morning, he saw glancing at the clock. Hearing and watching her even breathing, he was once more lulled back to sleep knowing that they were finally together and she was safe, back where she belonged. Total quiet and a pair of golden brown eyes focused on him was the first thing that greeted him when he opened his eyes. Early morning, judging by the pale light filtering through the curtains, he thought. Continuing to stare at each other, Leigha was the first to break the silence. "I need the bathroom." she said quietly as though she had a headache. Which he was fairly certain that she did, remembering his last encounter with the same darts. She saw his hesitation and the bruises peeking out from the open collar of his shirt. "It's just plain, old me Sherlock." she assured him. He got up, approaching her slowly. "I'm not going to attack you...I just need to pee badly." she said, trying to keep her voice calm. He uncuffed her left wrist first, moving to here left ankle. Moving around the bed to kneel beside her right side, his knee brushed against her wounded side, making her hiss in pain and jerk away from him.

Her movements made him step back quickly. Shaking her head while cradling her side with her free hand, she said sadly, "See, you are afraid of me. You should have left me where I was Sherlock." Seeing what he had accidentally done, he stepped back toward her. "No, not afraid." he said, "Just cautious." Finishing removing the last handcuff, he stood offering her his hand, ready to help her up. Accepting his assistance, she stood slowly, testing her legs. Making her way slowly and carefully to the bathroom, she left Sherlock standing alone in the middle of the room. Finishing her business and taking stock of her injuries, she walked in while Sherlock was changing his shirt. Seeing the bruises that covered his torso almost broke her heart. He turned hearing a sound behind him, finding Leigha. Seeing the pain in her eyes made him want to reassure her. "It's not as bad as it looks." he said gingerly sliding on his shirt. She couldn't say anything for a moment. "It's hard to fight an enemy who has outposts in your head...Sally Kempton." she quoted as she took a seat back on the bed. He realized that he had not given her credit for how smart she really was, he thought, she was so use to having to hide it just to fit in with others. Buttoning up his shirt, he watched as she eased herself back up off the bed and made her way to the window. She watched the snow falling as a small smile lit up her features. "I thought I had dreamed up the snow." she said. Limping, she made her way back to the bed, still cradling her injured side. "Hurting?" Sherlock asked, producing the pain pills that John had left in case she needed them. Nodding that she was, Leigha watched as Sherlock went and fetched her a glass of water. Handing her the pill and the glass of water, she took them both, never breaking eye contact with him. "Lay down with me...please?" she asked, as he turned away to head back to the chair. She had a feeling that he had spent the entire night right there, just watching over her and he had to be exhausted.

Scooting over, she waited. Watching him debate in his head whether or not to do it, was slightly painful. He walked toward the bed, pulling back the sheet and comforter even more. Even though it hurt her to be on her right side, she moved until her head was on his chest and she could still watch the snow. Thankfully the pain pill had already began kicking in when she asked, "Will it be alright Sherlock? Can we fix it?" Pressing his lips to her forehead, he hoped so, he thought before falling asleep himself. John had spent most of the morning seeing patients and calling Sherlock's phone. Getting slightly worried, he continued calling. But it wouldn't surprise him if Sherlock had lost himself in an experiment and was just ignoring the phone, like he did most of the time. At lunch time Mary popped her head in his office, "Any luck on getting through to them?" she asked. Shaking his head no, he decided to try Leigha's mobile. Same as Sherlock's, no answer other than voicemail. Mary said she had been trying Leigha's most of the day as well with the same result. "Three more hours and we can check up on them, hopefully they didn't kill each other..." John said, trying to lighten the mood. Chuckling Mary just looked at him,while she grabbed her coat and bag, "My money is on Leigha."

Finally the day was over, John thought as he and Mary left work. Hoping all was well, they headed for the flat at Baker Street. Pulling up, John noted that it didn't look like a bomb had went off or a war zone. John and Mary came into the empty living room, "Sherlock? Leigha?" he called out, nothing but silence greeted them. "Still taking bets?" he muttered to Mary, worry creasing his brow even more. Becoming more and more uneasy, John rushed down the short hall to the bedroom before Mary could stop him. Flinging open the door, at first, all John could see was Sherlock's body curled up on the bed. Taking two steps forward, John worried that Leigha had gotten free and had hurt his best friend. Shaking his head, he could see that her small frame curled into Sherlock's, his body protecting hers. She shifted at the creak of John's foot against a loose board in the floor, making Sherlock pull her closer and cradle her against him even more. John backed out as quietly as he could, shutting the door behind him he walked back to Mary, a sheepishly look on his face. Clearing his throat he muttered, "Sleeping still...", looking even more embarrassed by his over reaction. Mary smiled at him but said nothing. She wondered when the last time the sleeping pair had eaten and knowing Sherlock there was not much in the way of food in the flat. Shaking her head, she knew Sherlock forgot more often than not to eat and Leigha would need to do so taking the pain pills or they would make her sick. Pulling Sherlock's card from his wallet in his coat pocket, she grabbed John and headed out the door thinking the pair should be awake by the time they returned.

Leigha started to awake, the pain killer in her system making it hard. Her movement causing Sherlock to roll onto his back, she stopped watching him sleep. He looked so peaceful, his curly hair slightly falling into his eyes. Brushing it away, she noticed that the bedroom door was slightly ajar. Raising her head, she peered into what see could see of the short hallway. A creak, the fall of a footstep if she wasn't mistaken, caught her attention. Waiting with her breath held, she saw a shadow flit across the wall. Someone was in the flat. Sliding out of the bed as carefully as she could, she padded quietly out of the bedroom, her bare feet barely making a sound. Entering she found that the person was laying some papers down on the desk. Turning, the person was caught off guard and let out the best horror movie scream that Leigha had ever heard...


End file.
